


Fel is only one letter away from Feel

by Doitsuki



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Anal Sex, Awkwardness, Banter, Battle, Biting, Blood, Butts, Collars, Courtship, Crack, Cultural Differences, Demons, FEL - Freeform, Fighting, Food, Gore, Heel Face Turn, M/M, Magic, Nudity, Oral Sex, Orcs, Power Dynamics, Power Play, Rituals, Romance, Touching, Touchy-Feely, Transformation, Various Kinks, Warcraft Kink Meme, Weirdness, glowing warlock dicks, or some semblance of it, sorcery, tusks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-08-13
Packaged: 2018-07-29 16:20:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 26,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7691326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doitsuki/pseuds/Doitsuki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[From Kinkmeme Prompt #334924]<br/>Khadgar spent so long chasing Gul'dan all over Draenor and is still continuing to do so across Azeroth during Legion. He sees this as him just trying to stop Gul'dan and save Azeroth etc etc. Just some good old hero stopping the villain stuff right? Gul'dan however is very confused by this. Turns out this kind of behaviour is an old orcish way of flirting, and he's getting very mixed signals from Khadgar. Gul'dan's been responding in all the right ways, sending assassins after him, killing people to get his attention and all of that, but Khadgar still isn't following up on his courting. So Gul'dan decides to bring up this fact and try and sort through this one day while face to face with Khadgar in another of their encounters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Opening Cinematic: https://youtu.be/c4MNP09AbOE  
> yes I actually made a cinematic for gay gulgar/khaddong fanfic GO HAVE A LOOK its TENDER (like gul'dan's shapely loins)

Gul’dan wondered if he was going mad. He’d been in Draenor for so long going about all sorts of shifty business and yet _someone_ was still after him. Khadgar had been following him and he had always eluded capture. When they encountered each other, biting words and sharp, crackling spells were exchanged until someone got the chance to teleport or reinforcements arrived. Leaning on his staff, Gul’dan sighed.

 _‘No-one has wanted me this badly in such a long time…’_ Many, many years ago a few orcs had dared court him in the ancient ways. Now he had a mere human chasing him beyond limits others would not _dare_ cross.

 _‘I suppose I shall send him something in return.’_ And if Khadgar ended up dead because of it, he was too weak to even have a _chance_ with Gul’dan.

But it was not so.

In a heavily fortified garrison with Durotan and Saurfang at his side, Archmage Khadgar took a moment to breathe.

“He’s around here, you know. I can feel it.” For all his scrying, nothing could compare to Khadgar’s innate ability to sense the Fel. It was the most powerful magic around on Draenor and the closer he got to Gul’dan, the stronger he sensed it.

Durotan glanced down at him. “Should we go looking, then?”

“No, not all of us. Just me. I want to confirm my suspicions.” Khadgar straightened his back and looked outside, seeing reasonable weather conditions. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Be safe.” said Durotan, and pressed a hand to Khadgar’s shoulder.

An hour later, Khadgar had found a cave amidst thick white snow drifts where no animals dared roam. Sensing the fel to the point that it nearly sickened him, Khagar steeled his nerves.

_‘I know you’re in there.’_

Khadgar crept further into the cave, feeling the power within grow stronger along with a soft green glow. Only when he came into a wide cavern was he bathed in this glow, which came from a brazier lit with fel fire. Beside that brazier was an orc hunched over a slab of rock, swirling his gnarled hands around in circles. It was Gul’dan, as elusive and spooky as ever. Bathed in the shadows, Khadgar took a single step closer and focussed on what his adversary was doing, building power within himself all the while. He had to be ready for some dank burst damage in case Gul’dan threw a surprise attack at him. Khadgar waited, but the warlock only turned around after he was done with his business.

“So, little mage…” Gul’dan smiled a completely sincere smile around his thick tusks. “You have finally come to me.”

“Archmage.” Khadgar corrected him, pointing his staff. “I’m Archmage Khadgar, and I’m here to destroy you. I hope you don’t mind.” He started parting his thought for one half to contain his attack and the other to sense for Gul’dan’s, but there was no rising fel energy in the air at all. Gul’dan spread his hands out, leaning his lower body back against the rock which he’d been working on.

“Oh, my. How fancy. Tell me then, _Archmage._ ” His words rolled slowly across his tongue, deeper and darker than anything Khadgar had heard. And he’d heard some serious demonic shit. “How does it feel to finally have me _cornered?”_

“You aren’t cornered.” Khadgar hissed. “You can teleport, but I’ll fry you before you do.”

“Mm…” Gul’dan drew a clawed finger down the side of his staff, which stood against the nearby brazier. “Sizzling words from a…” He licked his lips. “Sizzling man.”

Khadgar nearly shat himself and tried to calm his rising voice. “ _What?”_ He shifted backwards, highly unnerved as Gul’dan began stalking towards him with a shuffling gait.

“Do you want to _fight me,_ Khadgar…?” Gul’dan dragged his staff behind him at first and then leaned on it to walk, red eyes fixed upon Khadgar.

“I want to _kill_ you.” Khadgar growled and readied a blast of arcane energy, his right hand glowing blue. Still, he could sense no counterattack from his foe and wondered what kind of gambit he was playing into. His concentration faded just a tad, as did the glow in his eyes as he saw Gul’dan _blush._

“Oh, I know…” Now the orc was close enough for Khadgar to smell the acrid fel and boiling sorcery about him. “You’ve sent many assassins and champions, as have I. So… many… slaughtered… and here you are.” He pressed himself close to Khadgar, who backpedalled all the way into a cold wall. “You look _excellent_ in the light of the Fel, little mage. What a pity you aren’t on our side.”

“I would _never._ ” Now Khadgar felt as if he was trapped and tore his eyes away from Gul’dan to stare into the brazier, which had hints of yellow swirling inside. The longer he looked, the more concerned he became. That fire was a single source of power, as if Gul’dan had poured his own energy into it for safekeeping. Indeed, with a single flick of his hand, Gul’dan could blast all that flame into Khadgar’s clean-shaven face. Khadgar leaned his head back against the cavern wall as Gul’dan scrutinized him.

“You cannot defeat me.” Gul’dan whispered, eye level with Khadgar as he was by no means a tall or straight-standing Orc. He was definitely no Durotan but felt intimidating nonetheless, and this Khadgar had to admit as he looked within himself for answers. Finally he let out a sigh, staring into Gul’dan’s face.

“I will… if you do not prepare yourself to fight back.” Khadgar knew there was no honour in fighting an unprepared foe and as much as he wanted Gul’dan dead for the good of Azeroth, conflict swirled in his heart. Gul’dan gave him _another_ unexpected reaction. He lowered his green eyelids and tugged at the clasp holding his cloak together.

“You want me to… _prepare_ myself?” His voice was a scant whisper now, and his breathing came quicker as he pressed his lower body against Khadgar. It hurt to even try and stand up straight, but luckily he was tall enough to press his face into the mage’s shoulder and _sniff_ him. “Then I will… mmn, unless you truly wish to slay me here and now.”

Khadgar recoiled. “Just _what_ are you _doing_?”

“The same thing you are too afraid to.” Gul’dan’s tusks hooked under Khadgar’s collar and he tugged a little on it. “Come now. You think I have not noticed your games?”

“Nng!” Khadgar felt a flush rising to his cheeks and knew Gul’dan had seen it. “I don’t know… what you’re talking about..”

“Of course you don’t.” Gul’dan began to lick Khadgar’s neck, nibbling just a tad with his eyes half closed. His free hand grasped Khadgar’s right wrist, pulling it out of its clawed attack stance. “Nobody does when they travel across worlds and time itself to find me.” Now he was whispering into the mage’s ear and breathed in slowly. “I’m _flattered_.”

At once Khadgar understood and in a moment of fright, wrenched his hand from Gul’dan’s grasp and gripped the back of the orc’s head. The hooded cloak came off in an instant and now Khadgar could get a better look at his enemy. Gul’dan moved back a little, shivering in the cold air. His beard had gotten stuck in Khadgar’s collar so he didn’t go anywhere far. He glanced at the mage’s light blue eyes.

“Tell me what you want.”

Khadgar wrapped his hand around one of the spikes on Gul’dan’s back and pulled, trying to create distance but Gul’dan snarled and bared his sharp teeth.

“Don’t try to remove my spine _, you fool!_ Answer me.”

Khadgar ran his hand up Gul’dan’s bare back and grabbed a fistful of his hair. Here was an orc wearing nothing more than a necklace of skulls and a loincloth with a long sash, and he wanted to know what Khadgar wanted.

“…I want to know why you will not fight me.”

“Hm.” Gul’dan slipped his hands under Khadgar’s robes and felt the contours of his body until he’d gotten his fingers around the mage’s ass. “I will fight you someday, perhaps when you have stopped courting me and we hate each other once more.”

“….?” Khadgar had never been held in such large hands before and felt a slight pressure, as if Gul’dan was asking for _permission._ He tilted his head to the side, curious. “I am not… courting you. All I wish to do is to halt the advance of the Burning Legion.”

Gul’dan grit his teeth. “You cannot, and this you know. DO not make excuses, Khadgar. It is no crime to want me.” He pressed his forehead against Khadgar’s and felt no pull at his hair suggesting he move away. His deep voice softened. “Come. Admit it.”

Khadgar had a thought. _‘If he lets his guard down and I seize the moment, maybe he will stop pretending to be some tender, innocent orc and finally unleash hell upon me. Then, I can counterattack and finish him once and for all. Fine, Gul’dan. I will play your game.’_ Unable to meet Gul’dan’s red, pupilless eyes, Khadgar looked down. _‘…I might as well have some fun.’_  He nodded quietly and parted his lips. Gul’dan tasted of ash and raw evil, exactly what Khadgar expected from someone influenced by demon blood. His tusks poked into Khadgar’s cheeks a little but didn’t irritate him that much – it seemed Gul’dan knew what he was doing. Gul’dan meanwhile had never even done this before, let alone thought of it, and pulled Khadgar close as he tasted him. Khadgar was something unique and clean, like fresh snow with that unique, masculine and _human-ness_ about him. Gul’dan nipped Khadgar’s lower lip and snarled.

“You wear too many clothes, like the rest of your kind.” He gave Khadgar a sharp smack on the ass, digging his claws in and delighting in the squeak that followed. “Disrobe.”

“You first.” Khadgar grunted and while hesitant to shove Gul’dan, gave him a little push back. Gul’dan gathered himself, standing just far enough to lean on his staff and use his other hand to undo the cloth that kept him decent. Khadgar took his sweet time and by the time he was nude, realized that Gul’dan was watching him with a dark, lustful hunger in his eyes.

“Hmm…” Gul’dan pressed a hand to Khadgar’s chest, feeling the smooth skin. Then, he slid his palm up to coil around Khadgar’s throat with a thumb beneath his collar. “I wonder, little mage… Who is your Master?”

“I have none.” said Khadgar, his voice tight. “Ng.. I only wear this-”

“For _my_ convenience.” Gul’dan grabbed Khadgar by his collar then and began dragging him over to the slab of rock where a few pieces of parchment lay. They were pushed aside in preparation for Khadgar to be thrown down and fucked mercilessly, which was what Gul’dan hoped for. Khadgar however was in no mood to be forced into submission and tried the Horde’s favourite tactic of baring his teeth and hissing. Gul’dan’s eyebrows shot up towards the back of his skull and he released Khadgar at once.

_‘He knows how to play the orcish game of consent?’_

Khadgar, nude and with his dangly bits rising like the temperature of the nearby brazier, stood to his full height. Gul’dan regarded him with a curious hesitation.

“Interrupt me again, Gul’dan, and you will regret it.”

There was a second of silence, before Gul’dan laughed.

“You cannot hurt me, Khadgar. Your power pales in comparison to this.” He spread his arms open and the veins beneath his skin glowed bright like ley lines on a map. Even his cock seemed to be imbued with fel energy, and it watched Khadgar with suspicion. Khadgar squinted against Gul’dan’s glowing body and flexed his fingers, limbs easing into a loose combat stance.

“The hurt will come later, as you earlier said.” Khadgar whispered, leaning in close. “Now… what was that you said about _courtship?”_

Before Gul’dan could explain, Khadgar grabbed him by the shoulder and turned him around, just narrowly missing the spikes on his back flying past. Gul’dan’s hands smacked against the rock and he crouched over it, turning his head to watch what Khadgar was doing.

“I don’t-”

“ **Quiet.”** Khadgar scraped his nails across the flesh of Gul’dan’s ass, finding him to be more muscle, skin and bone than anything else. He had _definitely_ not skipped leg day. “My collar does not mean you can do to me whatever you wish. It is all that keeps me from combusting with latent power. “ He leaned over Gul’dan’s back, slotting his body in between the two largest spikes protruding on either side of the orc’s spine. Gul’dan’s eyes widened and then rolled back as Khadgar sank his teeth into the side of his neck. Mated orcs did this to each other. And now, Khadgar _dared._ It was courtship indeed, and Gul’dan was only too happy to let him test his limits. He groaned softly and loosened his jaw, letting a hot breath steam against the rock.

“Oh, you _will_ combust…” said Gul’dan, cheekily eyeing Khadgar from the side. “But in a much more… _pleasant_ way. Come, then. I am ready.”

“Really?” Khadgar pressed the tip of his long, thick cock against Gul’dan’s buttocks. He could feel warmth like that of a furnace touch him and asked, “How so?”

Gul’dan squeezed his eyes shut, relaxing his lower body. “I… may have done some preparation of my own while awaiting your arrival.”

Khadgar pulled the warlock’s ass open in disbelief, seeing only one fine portal for him to enter the greatest instance of his life. The inside of Gul’dan’s body glowed green and Khadgar was almost hesitant to stick his dick in what looked like a pit of felblight. But once he did, immense power and energy enveloped him and he pushed himself all the way in, eyes wide.

“Gul’dan…”

Gul’dan was speechless, and a hidden smile crept across his face. Everything was going according to plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> felfire butthole I'VE NEVER PLAYED WoD IN MY LIFE
> 
> also, check out this awesome fanart by Galgard on Tumblr! http://galgard.tumblr.com/post/157255484641/rose-is-red-fel-magic-is-green-by-all-mean


	2. Chapter 2

Gul’dan knew the lure of power. It was what had drawn him in the beginning to Kil’Jaeden, and now to serve the Legion even when he did not feel like it. Right now, with his supposed nemesis buried balls deep in his ass, Gul’dan had no intention of killing Khadgar. The sense of being filled from within combined with the mage’s unique, bright energy had his mind soaring beyond anyone’s control. Here he was, bent over a slab of rock where an hour ago he’d been creating magical sigils on parchment in his own blood. His arms supported most of his weight and there was little more he could do than writhe and moan, feeling Khadgar upon and within him from behind. With every thrust, his cock smacked against the rock and it sent shivers into his legs. Khadgar meanwhile was pounding into him with great physical strength, a light sheen of sweat over his face and body. Gul’dan ached to watch him, to see if any vulnerability showed on his face or if there was a familiar, confident smile… but in this position, he was at the mage’s mercy. Khadgar was raking his fingernails down Gul’dan’s sides and feeling fel energy seep from the irritated skin. It was addictive, the tingling he felt as if brushing his hand across a flame or dipping his nails into acid. Combined with being inside Gul’dan’s tight, searing body, it felt as if he was sharing some of the warlock’s strength. Gul’dan groaned softly, lowering his head.

“You like that?” Khadgar growled, his face still in Gul’dan’s neck as he used his legs to power each thrust. “When I scratch you?”

“Oh, it’s an _orc_ thing…” Gul’dan managed as he turned his head aside, avoiding his tusks scraping the rock. “You… are good at it.”

Khadgar was highly unused to being praised for any of his social or sexual tactics and smirked.

“In comparison to whom?”

“No-one.” Gul’dan’s fingers clawed as Khadgar raked along his abdominal muscles and then flattened. He’d only ever seen others do this when mating and burned to know what it felt like. His body, frail as it looked, derived a certain sort of pleasure from this that sent pulses of heat through his veins, glowing with the speed of his rapid pulse. He wasn’t bleeding but when he did, his power healed the light wounds well enough. Pain was something he was acquainted with. In this somewhat controlled encounter, it brought him perverse delight along with the sting. “Nnnnhhhh…”

Khadgar laughed as he licked at the dark, healing wound on Gul’dan’s neck. It was in the shape of his own two front teeth, in small lines.

“For the leader of so many, you submit well.”

“I submit to nobody—ah!” Gul’dan winced. Khadgar had bitten him _hard_ and as a result, he felt a throb between his legs.

“Oh, shush.” Khadgar continued to lick, relishing the taste that was brought up to Gul’dan’s skin. The warlock squeezed him from within, making it much harder to thrust with ease. He was already slick with Khadgar’s essence and now was being pushed at where his fingers had never dared go. Right there was where Gul’dan found his will unraveling, all sharp remarks and scathing wit melting into pure joy. It was such a foreign feeling that it frightened him on a deep, subconscious level that he had barely any control over. Recognizing it only briefly, he focussed on the intensifying physical sensation and moaned something in orcish. Khadgar sped up his pace, pressing over and over again into where he could feel a burning heat growing within Gul’dan. No matter that he had his cock in a felfire fueled furnace; it was a damn good one and he was going to expend his two coals making it even hotter. He spilled himself within Gul’dan and shuddered, his body wracked with pleasure he hadn’t felt since leaving Azeroth. Gul’dan muffled a roar into the back of his hand and went off-balance, leaning heavily on one shoulder as thick glowing liquid splattered the smooth cavern floor. He went limp soon after, his jaw losing all tension and eyes falling shut. Never had he felt such an incredible release of physical tension before. Content to simply lay on the slab of rock, he did not think about why Khadgar lingered inside him. He thought of _absolutely nothing_ until a loud, booming voice came from the other end of the cave, where Durotan stood in the hallway entrance.

“Gul’dan! And… Archmage Khadgar? What…”

“HRGH!” Gul’dan made a noise like a baby demon being squashed by a doomroller and jerked. Doing so only made Khadgar stab into his oversensitive inner passage and he let out an impassioned moan against his own will. Khadgar turned to Durotan with a big smile on his face.

“I found him.”

“I can… see that.” Durotan wanted to pull the wolf pelt on his head over his eyes, never in his life having wanted to see Guldan naked. There was just _something_ about fel-touched orcs that creeped him out. Aside from copping an eyeful of nude Khadgar and green weenie, Durotan wasn’t _too_ disturbed. He was, however, confused. “You’re going to kill him now, right?”

Gul’dan looked at Khadgar with an unreadable expression. Khadgar was still feeling the remnants of Gul’dan’s energy in his own body ebb away and looked right back at him. Then, Gul’dan spoke to Durotan.

“I don’t think so.” He writhed around, his spikes slashing back and forth and forcing Khadgar to move lest he be smacked in the head. Once Khadgar was out of him, he got into his usual hunched combat stance only this one looked more physically prepared. “At least let me put on some clothes.”

“No.” Durotan drew his axe from his back and held it in both hands, eyeing Gul’dan. “You die today.”

Khadgar stepped between them, uncaring for his nudity and still half excited erection. “Durotan, please. This is not your fight.”

“N… _not my fight?_ ” Durotan couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Archmage, he is the single reason why my people turned from their ways and were lead to absolute slaughter. This _is_ my fight.”

While Durotan and Khadgar argued, Gul’dan saw this as an opportunity to sneak away. In a single motion he threw up his hands and cloaked his entire body in flame, shifting to the left and leaving the column of fire in place. Now he was invisible, retreating to the shadows where not even his felfire brazier would shine light upon him. Durotan could not see Gul’dan’s discarded clothes (really just a cloak and loincloth) from where he was standing and thus did not notice as the items were drawn into the furthest shadows of the cavern. Khadgar however caught sight of the movement and his eyes widened. This wasn’t how he wanted their encounter to end. No, he had _questions_ to ask especially about what Gul’dan had said to him a few weeks ago. About their _history_ together. Considering where they were now was in a different timeline than the one Khadgar knew, he burned to know what Gul’dan had to do with him. This was in the _past_. History made now was _still_ the past, if it was to be counted by Khadgar when he returned to Azeroth. What would occur here to be considered _personal_ history? Khadgar glanced to the pool of fel-come (totally legit) congealed on the floor. Power radiated from it and yet he hesitated to touch it, feeling a little icky to do so in front of Durotan.

“Your purpose on Draenor is to kill that traitorous wretch.” Durotan growled. “Why would you ever hesitate? Is it because of what you two were doing?”

“No!” Khadgar swept his hand out in a cutting motion, eyes glowing blue. _‘Yes. I don’t want to live the rest of my life without knowing what Gul’dan and I have done, or will do. I cannot kill him **yet** , but I can impede his actions to a degree._’

Gul’dan listened for a while, wrapping up his loincloth and smoothing out the long sash. With his staff by his side and his cloak keeping his ass warm, he gazed at Khadgar with longing.

 **“Soon… I will have you.”** His voice echoed in the cavern and then, he was gone. Durotan and Khadgar sensed this the moment the brazier’s fire died and everything went dark. Soon, Khadgar had a light of his own helping him find his clothes and Durotan went to wait outside, feeling terribly awkward.

_‘Just what… is going on…?’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what do you mean Fel kink I don't know what you're talking about *SWEATS*


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> let's go to Hot Fuckin' Citadel!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm doing the best research I can with an ilvl of 649 R I P 
> 
> (also i cut a part out about the surrounding war camps around HFC bc cmon you guys know whats up ay)
> 
> also this is veering into AU territory with the plot I'm starting - WoD-wise Gul'dan is basically settled into HFC and has the Burning Legion + Iron Horde on his side, hasn't done that ship mission yet, Warden Cordana is fine... etc etc *sweats, looks at wikipedia*

Durotan stood at the command table, giving Khadgar some concerned side-eye. A few days had passed and the images of what he’d seen still haunted him. The slight queasiness brought on by remembering usually faded into a mess of other emotions when he thought deeply about what it meant. Enemies did not usually fuck each other and _enjoy_ it. He’d heard of orcs from other clans throwing their dangly bits about in a show of dominance, and even then what they did was frowned upon in secret. Gul’dan bending over for Khadgar, who had no signs of serious injury on his body… it was beyond Durotan’s comprehension. Earlier, he’d gossiped with Saurfang who agreed that it was strange, despite having a coy look on his face. He was into it, but Durotan didn’t need to know. No word was spread and as such the topic of Gul’dan was not raised at the command table – dealing with him was assumed to be simple. Find him. Kill him. Done! Reward: no invasion of Azeroth, +4896 honour.

Durotan remained silent as talk of missions and resources went on. Khadgar meanwhile was lost in thought, a little worried too. There had been an uncomfortable _stretching_ feel in his fingers since he’d scratched Gul’dan, something like having hollow phantom appendages extending beyond his fingernails. When he looked at his hands, the feeling subsided only enough to become a slight agitation. Like the threads of tiny muscle, cartilage or whatever was in his fingers were vibrating rapidly, trying to escape. Not even spreading his arms and creating balls of blue light in his hands helped, instead causing a sensory overload as smooth arcane met bothersome internal workings and Khadgar was forced to stop. He sighed, leaning on the table and allowing his eyes to unfocus. His head snapped back up when he heard the words _Hellfire Citadel._

“Many adventurers have been applying to join our ranks to assault the Citadel.” said Warmaster Zog, pointing to the center of Tanaan Jungle on the map. “Since the Iron Horde does not make active use of necromancy, I think it’s fair to say that we can go in with a large force and not have those killed rise against us.”

“Wait.” A lieutenant raised one hand, questioning. “So you are planning to have many die?”

Zog shrugged. “That’s how it goes. The forces in the Citadel are often spread out, thus going in with a massive army will cause chaos and confusion. It is good to outnumber the enemy, but not in such close quarters. We might end up hitting each other.”

“You know what?” Khadgar spoke up. “I think we should do some recon first. I can go in raven form without arousing suspicion.”

“But you’ll end up arousing something else…” Durotan muttered.

Khadgar’s face went bright red. _‘How did he know?!’_ Of course, the Archmage had more noble aspirations than whatever Durotan assumed and he stood up straight.

“Ahem. I shall go. I have quite the mind for strategy, Warmaster. Rest assured that I will observe where different types of combat can be used and how many units can fight comfortably.”

“If you think you can handle it, then go. I’m of a mind to assault the Citadel next month. Get all this Iron Horde nonsense over and done with.”

“At once.” Khadgar turned into a raven, his clothes disappearing and body growing light enough to fly. How free he felt, soaring through the cold afternoon sky! But then, after a few hours, he wondered if he would die. Hellfire Citadel was _the_ most fortified place in all of Draenor that Khadgar had ever seen. He’d only observed it from a distance previously but as he approached, he saw how truly massive it was. A spiky, twisted behemoth against the dark green sky, glowing clouds circled it along with winged demons and sparks of fel magic. There was a moat of blighted ooze around the place, flowing down from the distant Throne of Kil’Jaeden. The entrance door was shut and guarded by two tall demons, so Khadgar sought another way in. There were tusk-like decorations on the ramparts a few meters up, and many hulking behemoths patrolled around. Khadgar, ever the innocent little bird, perched near the doorway leading into one of the Citadel’s towers. He made sure to disguise his magical presence, as he knew some demons and even orc warlocks could sense it. Nobody bothered him at all. He flew through the dark doorway and stuck as close as possible to the ceiling, the beat of his wings lost to the sound of _everything_. Mages swirled felfire in their hands, throwing it at each other as if playing a game. Countless smiths worked at their anvils and roaring warriors could be heard clashing swords and axes in training. Those who died in training were too weak to serve Gul’dan, so it was no real loss for the Iron Horde. Huge pits of boiling green sludge bubbled noisily and Khadgar saw the stuff leaking from the walls, pooling around rocks that burst from cracks in the metal floor. Hellfire Citadel had many levels, and nearly all the floors and walls were made of steel sheets. Khadgar observed the scrapes and blood splatters on the walls along with signs of corrosion. This was definitely not a place he wanted to spend much time in. He felt like he was suffocating, but not because his tiny raven lungs couldn’t handle the stench of blood and bad guys. It was the Fel. The Iron Horde breathed it, played with it, swam in it and even pissed it. Khadgar no longer had to worry about his bodily discomfort caused by withdrawals from the stuff – just being here was enough to sate him and he worried deep inside.

_‘Ah... But none of this can corrupt me **too** badly, after all I AM resistant to pretty much every form of magic.’_

A voice in his head argued with that.

_‘Khadgar, you absolute fool. It’s the FEL. It corrupts everything and everyone, and you’re already craving it inside. Gul’dan has screwed you over.’_

He dove down to pass through another doorway, glancing at the monsters in the Pits of Mannoroth.

 _‘Actually, it was the other way around. Besides, it wasn’t **that** much. All I have to do is get involved in a little purification ritual and all will be fine. I don’t know why I didn’t think of that earlier! Hah!’_ He couldn’t concentrate if there was anxiety at the back of his mind, so he forced himself to temporarily believe that all would be well and continued to explore. The deeper he flew, the darker his surroundings became. Shadowy void-touched creatures floated about, their eyes gleaming various colours in accordance to their strengths. These were of the schools of magic Khadgar opposed, making his attacks against them incredibly effective. He always ensured when fighting such things that they never had a chance to touch him. When Arcane and Fel clashed, it was truly a sight to behold.

_‘Just like… Gul’dan and I. Hmph, a sight indeed!’_

These were more aligned with shadow and death, however, and Gul’dan saw them watching him with bluish purple eyes. Of course. They could sense his presence, but could not see him as hostile. As elementals, they based their attacks off sight rather than sense. They did not have instincts, after all. And the raven flying overhead wasn’t shooting magic at them, so… they stared. Khadgar continued with his recon, and went entirely unharmed over the course of a few hours. He returned safely to the garrison early in the morning, just in time to have breakfast and rest for a while. He gave his report the next day. But as he spoke, he found it difficult to keep his voice calm. That damned irritation was back again, beneath his skin, shifting beyond physical perception, _eating_ at him.

“And… in conclusion, you will see all the points where their forces are concentrated and choose adventurers to send in accordingly.” Khadgar gestured to the quick map he’d made by transferring his mental focus and memory of Hellfire Citadel onto paper. “Now, I must be off.” He made a swift exit before anyone could reel him back with questions, having no intention of dealing with any more war plans until the Assault on the Citadel. He teleported his fine ass to his own private tower in Northeastern Talador, where Kirin Tor magi and elementals were guarding the place. The humid swamp’s greenish blue environment was a welcome sight for Khadgar, more interesting than flat white snow and a sky full of war machines. Once up in his tower, Khadgar fell back onto the clean purple sheets of his bed and sighed. He couldn’t even lie down in comfort, for the niggling in his fingers (and toes, now!) was too much to bear. He sat up, dragged a huge emerald-studded chest out from under the bed and opened it. Thousands of glittering apexis crystals winked at him and he ran his hand through them, feeling their wholesome energy. It was not enough.

 _‘Might be time for a purification. I wonder if Prince Anduin is busy…?’_ He picked up one of the crystals and chewed on it, thinking. _‘Hnnnnn… but if he judges me tainted by the Fel, nobody will trust me. After all, if I let myself become corrupt, who knows what else I’ll do that isn’t in Azeroth’s best interests? Oh, Light. Can’t we just blame Gul’dan’s ripe green ass for all this and move along?’_ After having chased Gul’dan for so long, Khadgar had found it difficult to do anything other than fuck him after it was decided nobody was going to die that day. As a result, he’d begun to crave _more_. Khadgar ate the crystal and lay back in bed, undoing the buckles keeping his coat together. These cravings were becoming increasingly difficult to bear, and had been causing him to lose sleep over the past few days. Literally everyone capable of purifying him knew who he was and what he was supposed to do, so asking a priest for help was now out of the question. Khadgar could only think of one thing, and he did not like it at all.

 _‘I could… relinquish the part of me that remains corrupt… and replace it with the strength I hold in this collar.’_ It was snug around his neck and pulsed with blue light when he considered it. _‘But… it will become a right pain to locate Gul’dan without the knowledge and power of my entire self.’_ Conflicted, Khadgar wriggled out of his coat and curled into a ball.

“Rrrrgh…”

_‘Maybe I should just kill Gul’dan once and for all.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao i can't find anyone to let me into a cleared HFC so I can take screencaps and transfer beautiful 3d architecture into mediocre writing so um  
> /2 WHO HAS RAID LOCKS  
> (I went on youtube and looked up the mobs bahhahaha)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you can't spell scrying without CRYING ;A;\
> 
> jk no angst just... well, you know ;) ;) ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> legion be like: azeroth watch out the green dicked grinch is coming to town  
> WoD: catch me if u can babe :* 
> 
> But somehow, Gul'dan has managed to plant some quickly rooting seeds in Khadgar's mind, perhaps even warping his logic as it battles with the physical side effects of the Fel. HMMMMM.

The next day, Khadgar spent some time scrying to see where his sexy old foe was hiding. It turned out that Gul’dan was asleep, snoozing in a massive chair deep within Hellfire Citadel. Khadgar felt a stab of guilt.

_‘I’m… going to have to do this.’_

The moment he approached the gates however, someone shot him down from the sky. He only saw the arrow before it burst into a huge net, trapping him with tendrils of dark energy. His wings sliced as best they could and when he finally took human form, he’d panicked too hard to conjure his clothes back and stood nude surrounded by enemies. The nearest orc fainted and quite a few demons squinted. Then, someone spoke.

“Master Gul’dan has ordered you to be brought to him alive. Don’t think we didn’t notice you the other day, _Archmage_.”

Khadgar hurriedly dressed himself in a decent set of eye-searing purple robes, eyes narrow. The demon before him beckoned, tugging on what looked like a shadowy leash. Khadgar stumbled forwards and resisted with magic of his own, tearing at the demon’s control over him. He broke free in a burst of white light and hovered in the air, fingers spread with an attack ready.

“I will go, then. No need to… _bind me_.”

“Hmph.” The demon lead Khadgar while others followed to make sure he didn’t escape. “You truly must be mad to come here willingly.”

“And you must be weak if you fear a simple mortal like me.” Khadgar snarled. He didn’t appreciate being pushed around one bit and saw the demon’s tail lash with contained rage.

“You are lucky the Master wants you alive. I would see you spread like meat paste upon the ground if I could.”

“A pity, then. Your paste will have to wait.” Khadgar held his head high, entering Hellfire Citadel through the open main gates. As he looked around, he noticed towering black and green cannons manned by orc engineers and quite a few demons overseeing their work. Siege weaponry was being pushed by teams of muscle-bound orcs with reddened, scrunched up faces. Battering rams, trebuchets and fearsome spiked rollers all went about for repairs or enhancement. Khadgar’s eyes widened.

 _‘They… are prepared.’_ The minute Warmaster Zog sent his armies through the gates, they would be _slaughtered_. But Khadgar hadn’t known! Surely he would not be blamed for the lives lost? He hated when leaders did that. King Varian himself was always looking to shift blame (Horde this! Horde that! Lich King too!) and here on Draenor, it seemed the orcs were none too keen on taking responsibility either. A demon smacked Khadgar’s ass with a long leather whip.

“Move it.”

Khadgar hurried along into the main part of the Citadel where he was taken up and down many staircases. After fifteen minutes of marching with the demons he was thrown face down into a vast, freezing room. He blinked into a standing position before he hit the ground, his teleportation skills saving his nose from utter annihilation against the floor. He threw a glare behind him and saw one of the demons raise its clawed middle finger. Then the huge arced doors shut and Khadgar was left in peace. On the eastern side of the room and facing the long tables in the center was a throne of metal and skulls. Braziers lit with felfire spilled heat onto the seat, causing all the skulls’ eye sockets to glow intermittently. Brown, grey, black and green were the colours of this room, a cross between a dining hall, training grounds and reception area. Khadgar approached the throne, seeing how jagged shadows flickered in deep crevices. Streaks of black blood mingled with the red splattered about the room, though a lot of it was old and carried no scent. Khadgar felt warm the closer he got to the braziers and put his hands out, attempting to shape the fire. It lashed out at him, its Fel against his Arcane disagreeing entirely. Khadgar’s hands snapped back, close to his chest. Then he heard a deep, slow cackle roll across the room.

“So… my little mage returns.” Gul’dan came into view as acidic smoke dissolved around his shadowed cover. He’d been leaning on one of the long wooden tables and now stood properly, using his staff in his other hand. He picked up a small white cube from the table and threw it once he’d gotten a little closer to Khadgar. The mage caught it in an extended, conjured hand and brought it to his face to look at it. It was a simple sugar cube. He raised an eyebrow at Gul’dan.

“For… your troubles.” Gul’dan inclined his head with practised kindness. Khadgar let the cube dissolve in his mouth, knowing it was not poisonous from sensing it in his hand.

“Mhm…”

“Tell me, Khadgar. Why have you come here today?” Gul’dan ascended the ramp to his throne, which existed for his own convenience rather than anyone else’s as he absolutely _hated_ stairs. Besides, nobody in the Citadel even had _permission_ to be within ten feet of Gul’dan’s seat. Khadgar was, and Gul’dan did not seem to mind one bit. Standing near a huge, yellowed horn of some slain beast that formed a nice pike beside the throne, Khadgar faced the warlock.

“I have come to ask you for help.”

“Oh? Very interesting. Very… honest.” Gul’dan sat on his throne, the back made of a thick viscous substance that absorbed his protruding spikes and enveloped him in jellylike comfort. It made a _schloop_ sound as he settled in and he set his staff aside, adjusting his loincloth so its sash flowed to the ground. He patted his thigh. “Come, sit.”

Khadgar sighed. “Gul’dan, that’s not why I’m here…”

“You wish to stand?” Gul’dan’s voice dripped with false mirth. “Then so be it.”

“Oh, shut up.” Khadgar knelt in Gul’dan’s lap, straddling him as the throne was big enough for him to do so with ease. The green stuff that padded the seat and back accepted him as it did Gul’dan and was not sticky at all, rather acting like the unbroken surface of a slime creature. Still, Khadgar had to ask. “What _is_ this?”

“Trapped tentacle demon.” Gul’dan chuckled. “It likes to be sat on.”

“Heeh!” Khadgar stopped picking at it and settled his hands on the armrests of the throne. He was feeling more anxious than kinky and got right into his Burning Question. “Look.” He showed Gul’dan his left hand. “Do you know what I feel here? What I’ve felt since you and I last met?”

“A terrible annoyance, I’m sure.” Gul’dan uncurled his fingers from a relaxed fist into a gentle openness. He stroked Khadgar’s hand from the back of his knuckles down to his wrist. “That is why you are here.”

“So you know.” Khadgar snapped his hand away, just out of Gul’dan’s reach. “You know what you have done to me.”

“I have let you absorb some of my strength, Khadgar.” Gul’dan spoke as if he had bestowed a great gift upon the Archmage. “As it happens, most of it you took for yourself. I did not ask you to.”

“Y-you _offered_ yourself to me!” Incredulous, Khadgar’s eyes blazed bright. Gul’dan only regarded him with amused curiosity. “And now… all I can think about, all I feel is this… _attraction_ to the Fel.”

“The Fel, is it?” Gul’dan’s lips split into a sharp-toothed grin. “Oh, yes. It’s very addictive. I would know – just _look_ at me.” He licked his lips and Khadgar saw them shimmer with a slight green glow. It seemed the Fel was in _every_ one of Gul’dan’s bodily fluids and Khadgar found himself leaning towards the warlock’s face. “But you know…” Gul’dan leaned forwards too, but not enough to count for any significant effort. “There are many vessels you may choose to consume it through.” He lowered his voice, eyes dimming to look less red and in fact reveal dilated, orange-gold pupils. “And you… chose… _me_.”

The moment Khadgar’s nose brushed against Gul’dan’s upper lip, the contact sizzled through his entire face. Flushed at once he licked at Gul’dan’s lips, then his tusks, then the side of his mouth where the warlock was practically _drooling_ for him.

“Good…” Gul’dan whispered as he leaned back and took Khadgar with him, letting gravity pull the mage’s body against his own. Khadgar’s forehead contacted Gul’dan’s, something both of them knew to be a deeply loving gesture among orcs. Gul’dan then captured Khadgar’s lower lip between his teeth and stole a long, filthy, fel-touched kiss from him. Khadgar’s need was on its way to being sated and his fingers came back to him, all connected to his mind and able to move and feel at his command. Regaining bodily control had never felt so _good_ and Khadgar’s subconscious fears melted away with his real, present anxiety. He did not think of addiction, nor did he worry about being purified. All he knew now was Gul’dan’s lips, the sharp and burning taste of his power and that clawed hand raking through his hair. Gul’dan tugged on Khadgar’s hair to get him away for a moment, needing to breathe. When he managed to inhale, he saw the way Khadgar was looking at him. Brows down, eyes peering up, wide and accompanied with heavy breathing through parted lips. Gul’dan smirked.

“Hungry, aren’t you?”

“ _Yes._ ” Khadgar breathed.

“For what?”

Khadgar paused just before he embarrassed himself. His hesitation annoyed Gul’dan just a little, but the warlock remained calm with a cheeky, superior look on his face.

“…I don’t really know.”

“Come now, little mage. Do you not feel the _relief_? You have hungered for the Fel. You have hungered for _me_. And now you have both. Relish this moment if you think it will be your last.”

“It can’t be.” Khadgar shook his head. “I need it.”

“You need _me_.” Gul’dan knew Khadgar wasn’t about to go suck the souls out of corrupted creatures roaming around Tanaan, nor was he going to take a bath in the Felblighted river. It was, after all, lethal at ten stacks. “Unless you would-”

“Yes…” Khadgar shuddered as Gul’dan’s hand went down his back and slid under his robes, gently touching his warm skin. “You. You are the one who tainted me with this. You… are the only way out.”

“There is no way out.” Gul’dan said with a soft truth in his voice. Why was Khadgar being so honest? The Fel didn’t usually affect people like that. “There is only survival.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> when u go to the tower on a boosted 100 and realize u can't do the legendary ring quest *MUH PLOTS!!!*  
> oh well daddy khadi is done with that, now lets see waddup


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm having too much fun with this oH WHAT

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> glowstick weenie
> 
> (ps I should probs let u know that this AU guldan of mine has a bit of altered backstory compared to harbingers – he was cast out from his clan, rejected by the elements, journeyed around hunting for food until he came to Ner’zhul, who took him in to the Shadowmoon clan. Everything from there proceeded as it did in Rise of the Horde up until the shadow council was formed, and then you can blend that with AU Gul’dan’s canon backstory as you wish ;) the point is: Gul’dan and Ner’zhul have had history together (reg gul’dan and AU gul’dan) so yeah I make reference to it a few times bc LONELY FORMER APPRENTICE IS LONELY. )

Khadgar purred as Gul’dan touched him. Loathe as he was to admit it, those gnarled hands actually felt _good_. Gul’dan did not scratch him, nor did he display any sort of serious violence at all. He didn’t even smack Khadgar’s fine, exposed ass. Yes, Khadgar had finally hiked up his robes and tied them around his waist, letting warm air caress his buttocks along with Gul’dan’s hands. Fingers trailed down the back of his left thigh, coming up again and ending in a light squeeze. The Fel was in Gul’dan’s fingertips. No wonder it felt nice.

Gul’dan was squealing internally at having gotten his ‘enemy’ to admit needing him. _Nobody_ needed him, not even the Legion. The work he did could easily be passed off to someone else, but he had a sneaking suspicion that Kil’jaeden couldn’t be bothered finding another loyal pet. Gul’dan thrived on feeling useful, powerful and strong. It was what Ner’zhul had treated him to all those years ago. It was what the Burning Legion offered, while at once threatening to take it away. Here was Khadgar, enticed by Gul’dan’s wily charms and addictive magic, telling the warlock how he _needed_ him because the other options to sate his cravings weren’t as attractive. SCORE.

Gul’dan spent long minutes marking Khadgar’s neck, nudging his collar up so he could make one discreet, scraping bite under there… and then sear kisses into the mage’s flesh everywhere else. Khadgar opened the top of his robes, the clasp nearly ripping off from how quickly he tried to undo it. Gul’dan licked him, Fel seeping into his skin along with a slow spreading pleasure. As the warlock explored his body, Khadgar watched him. His own hands came to rest on Gul’dan’s shoulders and massaged in a little, causing Gul’dan to groan. The muscles in there were knotted together tighter than a Worgen warrior’s pubic hair. It dawned on Khadgar that nobody had ever probably attended to Gul’dan like this, and a wave of pity washed over him. Gul’dan touched him so _gently_ with little experience in having it done to himself. And last time, Khadgar had been so overcome with lust…

“Gul’dan.”

The warlock looked up, chewing lightly on one of Khadgar’s pectoral muscles. “Hn?”

“It is not known… for your kind to be like this. I would have expected you to throw me down and split me in two by now.” Khadgar’s thumbs trailed up Gul’dan’s hunched shoulders and swept over his jaw, then cheekbones.

“Not all orcs are created equal.” said Gul’dan, and lowered his head to press a kiss to one of Khadgar’s nipples. Khadgar twitched at this, enjoying it but finding his words more important for the moment. He cupped Gul’dan’s face, forcing him to look up (but not too much).

“You have corrupted me. You are supposed to hate me. What is this?”

Gul’dan glanced away. “You ask too many questions, little mage. If you would… rather do something else…”

“No.” Khadgar squeezed Gul’dan’s thighs with his own knees, still straddling him. “You could give me a cup of demon blood and send me on my way, keeping me tethered to your generosity. Instead, you want to feed me that accursed dark energy with… what, hugs and kisses?”

“It’s convenient for me.” said Gul’dan, beginning to sulk. “And our demon blood is in short supply.” As he pouted, he realised Khadgar was moving away from him. Their bodily contact suddenly lessened and Khadgar stood before him. “Just where do you think you’re going?”

Khadgar took a deep breath. “You do not give me enough.”

Leaning forth, Gul’dan scrambled for an explanation. “I-in the early stages no amount _seems_ like enough, but Khadgar, you must understand that too much can-”

“Give… me… _more!_ ” Khadgar smacked his hands into Gul’dan’s thighs and sank to his knees, peeling away the insubstantial loincloth. Then he hesitated upon seeing Gul’dan’s dangly bits before him. He looked up. “…Please.”

Gul’dan recovered his smug look almost immediately and pushed any evidence of hurt feelings into the twisting nether. “Well, since you _beg_ so nicely…”

The change creeped Khadgar out a little as he wondered what Gul’dan was _truly_ feeling in comparison to what he said and how he displayed himself, but he didn’t want to think about that now. The scent of fel rose from between Gul’dan’s legs and Khadgar lusted for it. He picked up the warlock’s length in one hand, stroking it up and observing the glow along the veins. Contrary to popular belief, Gul’dan did not have a shriveled little tube down there. It was smooth, all hair burned away by one too many baths in the Felblight and around the length of Gul’dan’s hand. With fingers included! And he had some pretty Gul’ _damn big hands_. Khadgar pressed his lips to the tip, immediately finding hot wetness there. Gul’dan shivered and parted his thighs to let Khadgar do as he pleased. His balls had been sucked into the seat of his throne and were being caressed by one _very_ pleased jelly demon indeed. Or perhaps it was just the warlock’s squirming that was doing all the work. Mysterious chairs and dangly bits aside, Gul’dan had never had anyone do this before. As most orcs reviled him, he did not trust any of them to stick their faces close to his sensitive groin. Khadgar however was no threat at present and seemed more intent on filling himself with Gul’dan’s essence than killing him. He hadn’t had much practice in sucking dicks before, treating Gul’dan’s like a long, thick straw that contained the stuff he needed to survive. As a result, he created some wild suction and savage noises of raw desire.

“Good, good…” Gul’dan ran his fingers through Khadgar’s silver hair. He had quite the fondness for praise himself, and thinking that it would please and encourage Khadgar, told him he was doing well. Khadgar’s sole focus was not on these words, but on the taste seeping into the back of his tongue, burning his tastebuds. He wasn’t sure he had any there after the fel leaking from Gul’dan’s cock slid down his throat and warmed him inside like strong, magically infused liquor. He sucked noisily, thirsting for the liquid that was almost too hot to bear. Gul’dan moaned at these renewed attempts, knowing Khadgar was trying to coax more energy out of him. His body would only relinquish so much (and regenerate it in an hour or so…) yet he held back, delighting in the mage’s hungry focus. Khadgar’s eyes were fixed upon Gul’dan’s crotch when he pulled back and licked at the tip of what he now held in his hand. He could see power in Gul’dan’s veins, feel it in the tiny blood vessels beneath his skin. Absently he noticed that the warlock had no hair down here, but that didn’t bother him much. When Gul’dan tilted his hips a certain way, Khadgar had access to a bit more of him. Khadgar fondled Gul’dan’s balls, feeling how full and warm they were as they sat in his hand. Gul’dan had already spread his legs as far as they would go and leaned back, his hand sliding from Khadgar’s head to rest on his right thigh.

“Mmmmmm…” He closed his eyes. Truly, this kind of treatment was far better than _any_ of his Legion superiors had ever even considered for him. Was this how they felt when faced with a power-hungry orc who yearned for respect and admiration? Gul’dan knew not of Khadgar’s exact motives. But the need for strength was real and he sensed it now in Khadgar. Was it a need or a mere base desire? Khadgar certainly had a formidable amount of arcane energy in his body, so much that he needed a collar to contain it. Now he was receiving the Fel in such small quantities that it was barely enough to sate his growing need for it. Gul’dan knew how it worked. It was a part of his very essence. When he finally shot a jet of the green stuff down Khadgar’s throat, he gasped at the final, drawn-out suck. Khadgar milked him for all he had and then raised his head, licking his lips. There was the slightest yellow-green glow from his mouth when he opened it, and Gul’dan wondered what he had to say.

“Thank you…” Khadgar murmured, looking honestly into Gul’dan’s eyes.

Surprised but unwilling to question, Gul’dan smiled. “The pleasure is mine.”

“Of course it is, just look at you.” Khadgar stood and observed the languid posture Gul’dan took in his comfortable seat. He laughed softly. “Heh.”

“Come.” said Gul’dan, opening his arms for Khadgar. Without much hesitation, the mage sat in his lap and relaxed against him. Here, in the powerful darkness of Hellfire Citadel’s most private rooms, there would be no interruptions. Khadgar saw no crime in a little rest. Gul’dan was just happy to have another body against him, and found his mind calm as the minutes went by. Eventually he fel asleep, and Khadgar though weary wondered if now was his chance to end Gul’dan once and for all. Something in his mind however prevented him from even building an attack, the kind of hesitation that stopped desperate warriors from jumping off cliffs in their downtime. He wanted to do this, but was incapable of it.

_‘It’s probably just a matter of honour.’_ he thought, curling up against Gul’dan. _‘I’m better than slaughtering a sleeping foe. And I can do it, I really can. We’ll fight some other time.’_ Having received hospitality beyond expectation (see: not being immediately killed) and now with a place to sleep, Khadgar drifted off into a light meditative state. He didn’t trust his surroundings enough to enter a deep trance, but this was relaxation all the same. Gul’dan slept in silence. In his dreams, Kil’jaeden came to visit.

 

- _What are you doing?-_

Gul’dan opened his mind’s eye to see an odd manifestation of demonic confusion around him. Green tendrils coiled around a hazy red body and two sharp eyes watched from amidst it all.

“Er…”

_-You are supposed to kill him. He wants to prevent us from taking Azeroth, surely you know this.-_

“Of course I do.” Gul’dan glanced around. “I… have a plan.”

- _You are not supposed to have plans. You are to do my bidding and nothing else. Khadgar must die.-_

Gul’dan squinted, his body tense with annoyance. “I will corrupt him, _Master_. He is powerful, almost as much as I am. Would it not be nice for him to be taken by the Fel, brought to his knees before us?”

Kil’jaeden was silent for a few long minutes.

- _… You may proceed, then, as long as you do not die. I am watching you, Gul’dan. Eternal torment awaits if you fail. Do not forget your purpose.-_ Kil’jaeden left the warlock to his dark dreams and considered Khadgar. He was still in the early stages of corruption and could resist if he had the will. Gul’dan’s… methods of delivery were a little strange, but they seemed to be working.

- _…Pah. Mortals.-_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ps this fic now has a cinematic i put it on the first chapter go have a squiz eh :D i'll keep making 3d animations of these two heeeheee


	6. Chapter 6

Gul’dan woke after a long, uninterrupted sleep. Unbeknownst to Khadgar, he’d been keeping strong defensive barriers up around himself and those took a ridiculous amount of energy to maintain. Khadgar only felt the warlock’s innate power when he sensed him, a result of the carefully constructed defense. No fatal physical blows could be immediately dealt to him, and magical ones would be absorbed. Gul’dan did not yet trust having Khadgar around. He trusted _nobody._

He opened his eyes to find himself with a lap full of snoozing Archmage, Khadgar still in those garish purple Kirin Tor robes with a peaceful look on his face. His head rested on Gul’dan’s left shoulder and he was curled up with one hand on the warlock’s chest. Gul’dan shifted, observing him. Khadgar could do with a shave – his usual five o clock shadow was turning into a prickly white field. Gul’dan realized now that he had the chance to kill his foe, the one who had tracked him down beyond reasonable measures as if courting him to death. Gul’dan closed his eyes.

 _‘No. He is here as my **guest**. And… he is warm..’_ Gul’dan had not felt another body beside him in a calm environment for _years_. Khadgar was no cooling corpse, nor was he a tied up prisoner with his mind loose. He was here of his own volition and it confused Gul’dan to no end. But Gul’dan appreciated it, and as Khadgar woke, he smiled. Khadgar’s eyes widened upon seeing an orc so close to him, so early in the morning, but then he recognized Gul’dan and sighed.

“You really let me sleep here?”

“Of course.” Gul’dan stroked the top of Khadgar’s head, going down to his neck and folding over the collar of his robes. “You would not get far if you tried to leave.”

“Mm?” Khadgar regarded the warlock with sharp suspicion. “Am I your prisoner, then?”

“No.” Gul’dan turned his face and licked Khadgar’s nose. “Only my mate.”

“!!!!!!!!!!” Khadgar squirmed around and tried to untangle himself from the position he was in, but Gul’dan held him close.

“Oh, do calm yourself. I jest. You are here because the demons outside thirst for your blood and I am the only one keeping you alive.”

“I can look after myself, you know!” Khadgar pouted. “I could purge the entire citadel of its foul, disgusting…” His voice died as he noticed Gul’dan giving him a dark look. “Egh. Sorry, habit.”

“Do not worry. My people speak much the same of yours.” Gul’dan pressed his forehead to Khadgar’s and then leaned back, feeling a stiffness in all his muscles. “Mn. Are you hungry?”

“I suppose…” Khadgar looked around. “What do you lot eat around here, anyway?” He listened to Gul’dan as he stood back and began to transform his robes into something more familiar – his usual tunic, vest and breeches minus cape and coat.

“The demons prefer the souls of our enemies, and the orcs take the meat. I quite like both, you see.” He demonstrated by flicking his hand up and a human arm fell from the ceiling. He caught it and waved it at Khadgar. “I assume you will want something more… pleasant?”

“Yep.” Khadgar shut his mouth, lips tight as he saw Gul’dan char the (fresh?) arm with felfire and begin chewing on it. The warlock went down the ramp of his throne and crossed the room, taking some withered herbs from a nearby crate. Corruption clung to their thin, spidery roots. Watching Gul’dan heat water until it turned a crystal green, Khadgar had to ask.

“You don’t have servants?”

“Of course I do.” Gul’dan snapped, nearly overboiling the water. It steamed as he mixed the herbs in, letting them dissolve. He then drained the liquid into two cups, making sure there were no floaty bits. “I am capable enough of looking after myself, you know. I would not have _servants_ ,” he spoke the word with lingering disgust “learn my daily routines enough to find me predictable and divulge the information to people like you.”

“You do not trust anyone to look after you.” Khadgar said, open in his declaration.

“I do not.” replied Gul’dan. “Here, drink this. I’ll find something your delicate human body can stand.” He pushed one of the cups across the table, Khadgar stopping it before it bumped into a pile of sugar cubes. “It’s tea.” Gul’dan added as an afterthought, in case Khadgar hesitated. “Won’t kill you. Yet.”

Khadgar sniffed the tea, finding that it had an earthy scent tinged with something sour and eye-watering. Basically, exactly what plants grown in fel-touched soil would smell like.

“Gul’dan, are you _sure_ …”

“Yes, yes.” Gul’dan was in the middle of levitating some storage containers from a high shelf, stripping meat off the arm he was eating in the meantime. His own cup of tea was a few inches from Khadgar’s, steaming hot. “It’s just a bit of fel. You seemed to enjoy it last night…”

Khadgar blushed and sipped his drink without another word. At once he muttered a healing spell, then cooled the cup with a bit of ice magic pushed through his palms. He’d nearly burnt his lips off, and he needed those for Gul’dan’s… ahem. To speak with. Yes.

He found the tea to be palatable enough, and it began to rejuvenate him with every sip. The Fel was giving him energy, as it did to those who had it within them as an extra source of nutrition. Gul’dan watched him from the corner of his eye.

 _‘That will do nicely. It should be enough to suppress whatever cravings he may have, and subtly disperse the corruption throughout his body. Now… what do humans eat, again?’_ He rifled through the container he had floating before him and found some carefully preserved biscuits. He ate one and found it to be sweet and crumbly, wondering where it had come from. Sometimes the orcs who restocked his pantry here brought the strangest things…

“Here, little mage. I do hope this is enough.” Gul’dan handed five of the biscuits to Khadgar on the piece of paper they’d been wrapped in. Khadgar was surprised to see such normal-looking food in Hellfire Citadel and bit into one.

“Mn, thank you.” Khadgar sat opposite Gul’dan at the table and noticed he was done with the arm, now little more than bone and tendons. It evaporated as Gul’dan disposed of it with magic. Drinking his tea quietly, Gul’dan gazed at Khadgar.

“What will you do?”

“Hm?” Khadgar furrowed his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“Now that you know the way through my Citadel… and who lives here…” Gul’dan chose his words carefully. “Will you go back to your stronghold and prepare to mount an assault?”

Khadgar was silent for a moment, dipping one of his biscuits into his tea. It made an acidic _chhhh_ sound. “Even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you. Come now, I’m not _that_ stupid.” He smiled a little, but the warlock did not seem eased. Gul’dan peered at Khadgar over the rim of his cup, the steam coiling around his face in a yellowish cloud.

“Khadgar…”

“What?” Khadgar swallowed. “Ngh. I can’t promise that no adventurers will come seeking the end of the Iron Horde and the Burning Legion. I can’t promise that Durotan and the others won’t come berserking the shit out of your orcs and demons. I can’t--”

“I’m not asking about that.” Gul’dan shook his head. “I’m asking… what _you_ can promise me about what _you_ will do.”

“Why do you care?” Khadgar sounded amused. “You’ve evaded me more times than not. Whether or not I seek you out shouldn’t matter. You always escape, anyway.”

Gul’dan looked into his tea. It swirled around, glowing green. “…What if I didn’t?” He glanced up. Khadgar was watching him with a confused intensity. “What if I didn’t want to run from your not-inconsiderable power, hm?”

Khadgar tugged at his collar, feeling a prickling annoyance where it touched his neck. He waited for Gul’dan to continue.

“I do not want to, you know. I run because you will kill me if I don’t, but in recent times I have found no urge to do so. Why is that?” The warlock tilted his head to the side, his grey and white hair falling over one bare shoulder. Khadgar’s gaze drifted to the movement before locking back onto Gul’dan’s eyes.

“…Curiously enough, I haven’t a clue.” Khagar shrugged. “Somehow, my hatred for you and all that you stand for has lessened. Imagine that!”

“Of course it has, you cretin.” Gul’dan sullenly looked away. “You’ve courted me for years now, under the pretense of wanting to save some world that’ll die if Sargeras wishes it.” He remembered the assassins, the scrying, and the incredibly difficult time-traveling. “You have followed me, grown close enough to killing me, yet time and time again I survive. Had this not been the case, you would have never entered the Citadel in one piece.” He glared at Khadgar. “You are restraining yourself.”

“So are you.” Khadgar finished his tea and slid the cup towards Gul’dan, almost like a challenge. “From killing me, and perhaps throwing your wanton body all over me.” He smirked and undid the laces at the top of his tunic, noticing Gul’dan’s eyes flick there immediately. “You want me.”

“Dead.” said Gul’dan, with no conviction in his voice.

“Aaawww. How sweet.” Khadgar bared his upper chest through the triangle opening in his tunic, scratching again beneath his collar as it had begun to bother him now somewhat. “And as established yesterday… I also want you. The Fel within you, that is.” He expected Gul’dan to laugh or make some snarky remark, but instead the warlock looked hurt. His brows lowered and his gaze did too, eyes growing misty and unfocussed. Khadgar squinted. “What?”

Gul’dan slumped a little, feeling a heaviness sink through his limbs. “The Fel.” he muttered. “Is that all?”

Khadgar had a feeling there was something else Gul’dan was saying, but could not quite place it. He had an idea then, and reached for Gul’dan’s cup with the intent of using _Sympathy_ to feel him. It had been a while since he’d tried to read minds by sensing traces of people on objects they’d held, but there was no harm in having a go. Instead however he touched Gul’dan’s hand and read so much more. There was a yearning for power, though Gul’dan had plenty, there was a fear buried beneath layers not even Khadgar’s probing could disturb, and there were tumultuous emotions Khadgar had scarcely experienced for himself. He removed his hand, looking into Gul’dan’s eyes. Then, he saw _anger_.

“Gul’dan-”

“You want the Fel?” Gul’dan spoke darkly as he rose in his seat, lifting his hands. “Then let me _give it to you_.”

“A-actually…!” Khadgar raised his own hands in defense, blue light shimmering around his body. “I would much prefer if you didn’t directly blast me with the stuff.”

Simmering, Gul’dan had replaced his previous feelings with raw hatred. Only temporarily to guard himself, though, it had now started settling into displeasure. He bared his teeth, seeing Khadgar flinch.

“What, then?”

“You can, ah, give it to me some other way?” Khadgar rotated his collar with two fingers, the motion drawing Gul’dan’s gaze back to his partially bared chest. Gul’dan narrowed his eyes.

“Is that what you want?” There it was again. Gul’dan _and_ the Fel at once. _‘I don’t know what to make of this! Is he merely corrupt? Does he want to kill me? Does he actually want me for me, or the power I can give him?’_ He grunted. _‘Rgh. Of **course** he doesn’t want **me,** the Fel is much more… addictive. And he doesn’t want to draw on the life of others to feed himself. So, I must…’_ He shook his head, leaning forwards on the table.

“No.”

Khadgar’s eyes flashed with an instant shock. “What do you _mean_ , no?” He could see the warlock having ideas and didn’t like this at all, keeping his magical guard up.

“You’ve had enough, little mage.” Gul’dan straightened up as best he could, still hunched to all hell and now walking away from the table.

“Wait!” Khadgar chased after him, striding alongside Gul’dan. “I don’t-”

“You don’t want to be corrupted, do you? Grow spikes from your back and turn green?” Gul’dan turned in the dark hallway, leaning on the wall. He then pointed to some glowing green sludge pouring from a crack in the wall opposite, disappearing through a grate in the floor. “That is what you want.”

“Gul’dan…” Khadgar pressed a hand to the warlock’s shoulder. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing, nothing at all!” Gul’dan spat with a distinctly salty tone in his voice. He went over to the sludge and dipped his face into it, running his fingers through his beard as if the felblight was hair conditioner. It became a thinner liquid and dripped away, leaving Gul’dan’s beard looking silky and soft. Khadgar started forwards, reaching to touch it but Gul’dan shook his head.

“It’ll burn you. You are… far too _pure_.”

“Me, pure?” Khadgar snorted. “After what we did last night?”

Gul’dan waved his hand dismissively, combing through the long hair on his head with his hands. “You know what I mean.”

Khadgar sighed. “Look. You’ve tainted me, and know how the process goes.”

“Even now, you crave this.” Gul’dan gestured to the sludge. Then he smirked. “But you cannot have it. You must make do with smaller, weaker amounts. Unless of course, you would like to drink as the others have and transform?” Khadgar was silent, allowing Gul’dan to mock him. “Oh, but you would not be able to handle such strength. My apologies.”

“You got me into this!” Khadgar accused with a sharply pointed fingers, his eyes glowing turquoise. Wait, what? He went cross-eyed. His eyes were indeed less blue and now with a greenish tint. Gul’dan looked at him.

“Told you so.”

“Damn it! How am I supposed to go home now?” Khadgar began tearing at his hair, clearly distressed. Gul’dan stopped him by grabbing his arm and shoving it aside.

“You are welcome to stay here with me.”

Khadgar actually considered it, then pulled himself away. “I can’t. It’ll be suspicious.”

Gul’dan raised a brow, stepping closer to Khadgar. “You would, otherwise?”

Khadgar looked away. “…I have to hide this.” Ashamed of himself for sinking so easily into Gul’dan’s arms last night and even moreso accepting his corruption, Khadgar began to cast. It was directed inward, and Gul’dan watched him with interest. As Khadgar waved his hands around in specific patterns his skin began to lighten as did his eyes. When he was done, all the fel taint within him had been pushed into his collar, bound there with all the arcane energy. The collar stung now around his neck as the forces of Order and Disorder clashed, but eventually it settled into a mild scratch. Khadgar looked into Gul’dan’s eyes, seeing an unreadable expression on the warlock’s face.

“Your eyes have changed.” _‘He purified himself? I can’t believe it!’_ Gul’dan stepped away, running his hand through the soothing sludge nearby. Its power supported his own and kept him calm. “You will be able to return home.”

“Mhm.” Feeling a bit awkward, Khadgar tapped his fingers together. Finding nothing more to say, he raised one hand. “Well, goodbye, then!” In a flash he was gone. Gul’dan leaned against the wall and sighed.

_‘Ffffffffffffffffffffuuuuuckkkkkkkkkk………’_

When Kil’jaeden visited him next, he was not amused. But that was to be some time after Khadgar’s visit – in the weeks that followed, Khagar resisted his urges. They were still there, but thankfully contained now within his collar. He couldn’t take it off and even when he slipped a bit of cloth between the leather and his skin, the energy still vibrated against him. As time passed however the sensation began to annoy him, to the point where he was always scratching at his neck. One day while taking a bath he had noticed a spot of green glowing from beneath his collar, and lifted it up to see a weird little mark there. Gul’dan had bit him there some time ago and now it looked like he had a rune inscribed in his skin. Khadgar touched it, staring at his reflection in his conjured mirror. He couldn’t help but remember Gul’dan’s soft kisses against his neck, down his chest, those tusks scraping his flesh but not drawing blood… And Gul’dan’s hands! They’d felt so smooth against his skin, and though sometimes shaky they were deft and always gentle. Gul’dan had never tried to physically harm him, despite being his apparent nemesis. He saw Khadgar’s dedicated hunting as a courtship ritual, and somehow went along with it beyond any percieved limits. Khadgar sank further into the soapy, hot water and sighed.

“Just _what_ does he want?”

He no longer considered himself corrupt after pushing the Fel into his collar, where it was contained and annoyed him constantly. But seeing this green mark and remembering Gul’dan, he had his doubts. And a mildly interested erection to which he stroked thoughtfully.

“Hmm….”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i cut this chapter short bc i can't write wankin' unless it's 9pm and it's 4:44 pm ¯\\(°_O)/¯ *embarrassed whining*
> 
> ~it's a mystery~


	7. Chapter 7

Khadgar was back at the garrison, focussing entirely on the attack plans against Hellfire Citadel and chiming in with his own knowledge from time to time. It was all he could do to avoid scraping his own skin off, his neck _aching_ from his collar. The enchanted, waterproof leather had never bothered him this much. But now it was driving him up the wall.

Warmaster Zog moved little figures along the map, his eyes shining with anticipation.

“Here we will start, maybe dropping in a bomb to deal with all their machines, and then our soldiers will go in through here…” Then he tapped the leftmost area before the gates, Warcamp Gromdar. “We will have to deal with these forces before going inside the Citadel, to prevent reinforcements trapping us inside.”

“Kill them all.” said the Commander of the Garrison, a tall and burly orc warrior. “It’s the only way to end this.”

Durotan was silent, standing between Khadgar and Saurfang. He wondered if this was truly the right choice. Surely only killing Gul’dan would destroy the Legion’s hold on Draenor?

Time passed, and Khadgar decided to sleep at the garrison in case he was needed tomorrow morning. He had a room reserved for him, carpeted in red with dark brown walls and a horde banner against the back of the door. The Archmage was just about to magic his clothes out of existence when someone knocked.

“Delivery!”

“Eh?” He hadn’t ordered any apexis or stone tablets, so when he opened the door he was surprised to see a goblin pushing a huge box towards him.

“Enjoy~” The goblin sprinted off, busy as ever and Khadgar was left alone in his room. Or so he thought. The second Khadgar flipped the latch on the big wooden box out jumped Gul’dan with a wild look in his eyes. Khadgar promptly blasted him with a mystic bolt and annihilated his eyebrows. Gul’dan smacked into the door and sank to the ground, where he got up and shot dark energy right back into Khadgar’s face.

“By the tits of Tichondrius, what was _that_ for?!” Gul’dan snarled at Khadgar, feeling pain all over his body. Khadgar started to speak but then stopped himself. He rubbed his eyes, the last of fel energy dispersing into the air.

“What kind of saying is that? I thought you respected your Masters.”

“Pah…” Gul’dan waved one hand around. “That’s not why I’m here. And for the matter, I did _not_ spend six hours in a box so you could use me as a training dummy.”

“Oh? Then what _can_ I use you for?” Khadgar grumbled. His collar was itching him again and he longed to rip it off and unleash his full power, probably exploding soon after if he had no outlet for it. “In case you haven’t noticed, I have no need for your strangely alluring power.”

“How about my strangely… alluring…” Gul’dan couldn’t bring himself to say it. He honestly did not find himself attractive in the slightest. He shook off his cloak, turning his head left and right to make sure his neck wasn’t broken. “Oh, forget it. I just came to see how you were coping. Surviving as usual, eh, little mage?”

Khadgar narrowed his eyes, still guarded. “Gul’dan, you can’t possibly be here out of _concern_. Do you even feel that?”

“Why Khadgar, I’m offended.” Gul’dan put a hand to his own chest, stalking around the perimeter of the box to get closer to Khadgar. “Of course I do. I must confess, I’ve been wondering just how you managed to purify all my hard work out of you.”

“ _Hard_ work indeed.” Khadgar’s eyes flicked down and then back up. “Have you come to offer me yourself, then?”

“I’m here.” Gul’dan spread his arms out and shrugged. “Do as you like.” He knew of course about the impending attack on the Citadel – that had been the reason he had waited in a box with listening charms set around the outside, channeled into the command room. Khadgar seemed well-off, if not a bit agitated. “Oh, but first…” Gul’dan pressed his bare upper body against Khadgar, sternly looking into his eyes. “Heal me.”

Khadgar laughed and pressed a hand to Gul’dan’s back, avoiding the spikes as he worked. “You must forgive me, I hadn’t expected an enemy in a box.”

“Still enemies, eh?” Gul’dan tried to look upset but Khadgar’s healing felt off somehow and it was bothering him. “…How are you doing that?”

“Doing what? You don’t know how to heal?”

“Of course I do!” Gul’dan bit Khadgar’s shoulder through his thin robes, causing the Archmage to jump slightly. “Most human healing does not work on me. Especially not the kind _your_ schools of ‘magic’ can provide.”

Khadgar paused, his hands glowing a little softer. “…Oh.” A little of his corruption still lingered, and it was seeping out of his collar into his blood. That was the only explanation for his light-based healing to have any effect other than pain on a creature of the darkness. “Are you feeling any better?”

“Just a little.” For pain relief rather than actual mending of twisted bones, Khadgar’s mildly tainted magic worked well enough. Gul’dan smiled. “So you _do_ care.”

“Ach, it was a mere courtesy. Don’t go trying to rut me into the wall now.” Khadgar stepped back, then did so again until he could lean against the wall beside his bed. “Unless, of course, you want to…”

“I do.” Gul’dan answered honestly, the sash on his loincloth shifting a little. Khadgar noticed this and chuckled.

“So this is a ‘booty call’ of sorts. Now I see. You can’t keep away from me, can you?”

“How the tables turn.” Gul’dan whispered, and crossed the room to pin Khadgar where he stood.

“Wait.” Khadgar gripped Gul’dan’s beard. “I have to ask.”

“What is it?” Gul’dan seemed impatient.

“This.” Khadgar tilted his head to the right, his collar shifting to reveal the slight green mark on the left. “What is this?”

“Er…” Gul’dan didn’t want to tell Khadgar that he’d given him a mild infusion of his own blood to use as a fel-touched tracking device. “It’s a… I don’t know the word in Common.”

“Liar.” Khadgar snarled and tugged on Gul’dan’s beard enough to make the warlock wince.

“It’s a _love bite_ , fool! And I’ll give you another if you don’t _stop_ that incessant pulling.” Gul’dan easily caved in response to physical pain, but Khadgar did not release his beard. Slowly, deliberately, Khadgar pulled again. Gul’dan’s eyes darkened. Bracing one hand against the wall, Gul’dan tore Khadgar’s robes open with the other and, knowing they were conjured, burned them away. They could easily be replaced. Searing heat went down Khadgar’s arms and then hot wind followed as Gul’dan displaced the ashes.

_‘He’s going at it in fine style.’_ Khadgar thought. _‘Perhaps he wishes to impress me… ah!’_ He gasped as Gul’dan licked over one of his nipples, teeth scraping against it moments later. With his wrists pinned above his head (now magically in hot, twisting felfire rope) Khadgar let himself be toyed with. Gul’dan was tasting him and his tongue was an immediate catalyst for unbridled pleasure. Khadgar knew he was being coated in corruption and hardly cared, not if he could just push the Fel into his collar and remain untainted in appearance. But it felt _good_ to indulge and he’d gotten relief from the scratching already. **Finally.**

Gul’dan had let him keep his pants on, though the threads smouldered just a tad. The warlock was palming him through his tight breeches, forcing him to part his legs so that huge hand could gain better access. Had Gul’dan… filed his nails? They certainly seemed less sharp and claw-like.

“So…” Gul’dan purred, nuzzling his face against Khadgar’s chest. “Where shall I take you? My, aren’t you comfortable up against the wall.”

Khadgar wished to give Gul’dan the illusion of power and thus didn’t break free from his bindings, though had placed a protective spell around his wrists so his flesh didn’t peel off. He thrust suddenly into Gul’dan’s hand, doing waves with his body and twisting around.

“Mngh. The bed is made for this, you know.” A naughty little glint in his eyes told Gul’dan that Khadgar was enjoying this too, just a bit of banter. Gul’dan smiled and stood on tiptoe, kissing Khadgar beneath his jaw. Whatever he was going to say disappeared as he quietly tasted the mage in several places.

“Oh…” Gul’dan whispered. “I almost forgot.” Without care for adjusting Khadgar’s collar, he bit him on the right side of his neck _hard_. Khadgar cried out and his arm jerked as he tried to cover his mouth. But he was still bound and no physical effort could get him free. Gul’dan licked and muttered something to ensure Khadgar wasn’t wounded. That’s what he got for messing with the finest beard in Draenor.

“G-Gul’dan, that _hurt!_ ”

“My apologies.” Gul’dan drawled as he cradled Khadgar’s face in both hands and kissed him. He made the most obscene, wet noises as he did so, now grinding his own erection against Khadgar’s. Rutting against his little mage, Gul’dan found a warmth growing inside him. This closeness was what he thrived for, and no matter what environment as long as nobody was grizzling with hate, he could enjoy it. He swallowed a moan as Khadgar warned him, tongue roving about. There was a knee now directed between his legs, applying enough pressure to keep him at bay.

“If you want that…” Khadgar nodded towards his crotch. “You’ll have to find some way to keep quiet. I won’t have anyone walking in on this.” He was breathing heavily and his teeth were bared, Gul’dan understanding that he was serious. The warlock ripped off his own loincloth and the sash fell away from it. This was what he would use – it was clean, after all. Gul’dan dispelled Khadgar’s bindings.

“On the bed.” he gestured but Khadgar felt like a little roughness and wanted to test how far his unusually gentle enemy would go.

“Make me.” Khadgar tilted his hips forwards and stuck out his tongue. Refusing to be defied, Gul’dan licked his lips in a moment of indecision. But it was just for a second, and he made his mind up when he saw Khadgar’s challenging gaze. He grabbed the mage by his collar and threw him onto the bed with all his strength. His muscles would be sore in the morning but he didn’t care. Dominance was all Gul’dan exuded as he watched Khadgar scramble to look at him. Gul’dan crawled onto the bed and brandished his sash in both hands.

“Sit.”

Khadgar obeyed but not fast enough, and his head jerked forwards as Gul’dan wrapped the sash around his mouth, overlapping it until Khadgar could do nothing more than drool. His eyelids lowered, gaze hungry and breeches far too tight. Gul’dan had a completely new expression on his face, one more confident and secure than Khadgar had ever seen. It made him want to _kneel_.

Gul’dan spread Khadgar on his back with legs open and arms above his head. Khadgar gripped the headrest on the bed, feeling the cold black iron against his sweating palms. Gul’dan then ripped his breeches away, the strips of fabric burning to dust as he did so.

Khadgar gave Gul’dan a look that said ‘ _Aren’t **you** eager?_ ’, wriggling around in a most seductive manner.

“Mh.” Gul’dan stroked himself, watching Khadgar’s nude, well muscled form squirm about. His length fit well in his own hand, thickening as it stood. How excellent and servile Khadgar looked when he was on his back, obeying Gul’dan’s instructions. The warlock wondered if he would ever have another who would do this with him. Khadgar raised his knees, giving Gul’dan a view of his entire package. Gul’dan was very tempted to taste him, but he knew he would end up impaling Khadgar with his tusks. He could be perhaps a little enthusiastic when it came to eating things. And Khadgar’s ass looked like a delicious meal indeed.

Gul’dan bit his bottom lip, closing his eyes. Felblight beaded at the tip of his cock and he spread it over Khadgar’s ass, looming over him. His long beard tickled the mage’s chest. The finger he now had between Khadgar’s buttocks was working very, very carefully to keep from scratching. It was a foreign feeling to Khadgar who was tense with excitement, but managed to relax as Gul’dan stroked his finger up and down.

“Tell me… have you done this before?”

Khadgar snorted, rolling his eyes. His voice was muffled as he said _“Ugh crrghsh.”_ His words were just barely understood. (Of course.)

Gul’dan looked a little disappointed, and pushed another finger in. “You have been my first, you know.” He chuckled at the look of surprise on Khadgar’s face. “Come now. What use would I have for this kind of thing otherwise?”

“Ughghviishe?” Khadgar spluttered, nearly choking on his gag. It was getting more difficult to think with Gul’dan’s penetrating gaze on him and fingers working deeper into his ass.

“Yes.” Gul’dan nodded. “I would only ever consider doing this with you. You have courted me properly, after all. Don’t you think you’ve… _earned this_?”

Khadgar was speechless, and let out a deep groan. Gul’dan pushed _up_ into his body.  
“Quiet, now. You wouldn’t want us to be _interrupted_.” He knew how mages hated that. Khadgar however only whimpered against the sash in his mouth and a trickle of saliva went down the side of his face. Gul’dan smirked and leaned over to lick it up. He’d found the place inside Khadgar that had formerly undone his own restraint. “How does that feel?”

“Gnnh,” Khadgar whined, tossing his head to the left. “Hrrhnggh…”

(Good, hurry…)

Gul’dan shook his head. “I’m afraid I can’t quite understand what you’re saying.” His two fingers slowly circled the raised area of unbelievable warmth and sensitivity within Khadgar.

Khadgar arched his back, eyes rolling up into his head. “Hnnnnnnnnn…” He was beginning to sound more and more desperate and his dangly bits looked like a flagpole with two grounding stones. Gul’dan laughed and pressed the thick, wet tip of his cock against Khadgar’s ass.  His fingers were gone and now something bigger was ready.

“Now, little mage…” Gul’dan murmured in his silky, low voice. “Look at me.”

Khadgar did, his eyes watering. He was breathing hard through his nose and still tried to look somewhat dignified. Gul’dan pressed both hands onto Khadgar’s chest and braced his (relatively light) weight against him. Then, he whispered a spell in a harsh, demonic tongue to turn any pain into power as he knew his hips were going to get a wild workout tonight. Khadgar’s legs went back as far as they could go, wrapped around Gul’dan’s lower body and pulled him closer. Gul’dan slid in and Khadgar let out a long moan until his breath left him. This reminded him of that one time he’d shoved a stack of Apexis up his ass. Gul’dan’s cock pulsed with fel energy and it was permeating the inside of Khadgar’s body. Both relief and ecstasy flooded Khadgar as Gul’dan began to move, riding him while gazing at his face. The warlock had a determined look in his eyes and sought to see Khadgar completely undone. Enjoying the heat of Khadgar’s body, Gul’dan’s thrusts became rougher and his hands massaged back and forth. Khadgar’s muffled, wanton moans were for his ears only and he relished every one. He grunted something in orcish, trying to keep his voice down as he expended energy he never knew he had.

“Rrrnghh…” The bed was shaking and Khadgar’s arm muscles were working overtime to keep his hold on the bedhead. At Gul’dan’s mercy, he moaned and sighed helplessly while at once trying to meet the warlock’s thrusts. For such a slight orc, there sure was some power in his thighs. Gul’dan’s hair swayed with the force he was using to move back and forth. It wasn’t long before he bit down on his lip and growled out something incoherent in the back of his throat, filling Khadgar with his burning essence. Khadgar shrieked against his gag and thrashed wildly, his own release sending sparks throughout his body. His eyes glowed bright blue, his lower body tinged with green. Gul’dan pulled out as he saw Khadgar infused with the Fel, unable to resist the spreading corruption. Khadgar’s eyes widened as he felt his own magical power soar, tormenting his body as if he was too small to contain it. He cried for Gul’dan, to help him, to ease his suffering, to tell him what was going on, but Gul’dan only gazed at him like he was the most beautiful thing in the world. Gul’dan then pressed his hand to Khadgar’s glistening forehead and whispered.

“ **Rest.** ”

Khadgar fell unconscious.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> u didnt think i could write a fight scene? think again (งಠ ͜ʖಠ)ง

 

Come morning, Gul’dan was stroking his hand over Khadgar’s bare chest when the mage woke up.

“Whah!” Khadgar sat and promptly regretted it, hissing at the pain in his ass. “Aghh… Gul’dan, what have you _done_ to me?”

“Nothing!’ Gul’dan said lightly, his hand falling into Khadgar’s lap. He stroked along smooth thighs with the ease of a practised professional. “How are you feeling?”

Khadgar checked. His neck didn’t itch at all and his body’s needs were sated.

“Well enough.”  He gazed at Gul’dan and turned to face him a little more, leaning with one leg bent up at the knee. He touched the warlock’s cheek and felt the muscles beneath contract for a smile. Then he realized something. His hand was green. Panicked, he summoned a mirror at once and saw his own eyes glowing as brightly as a demon’s.

“!!”

Gul’dan held onto him and soothed him with his voice and touch. “Shh, Khadgar. You’re alright.”

“You… you corrupted me _again!_ ” Khadgar couldn’t believe this. When he tried to push the Fel into his collar, he was met with resistance and a scratching that warned him not to try harder. _‘…and I **liked** it! Oh, no…’_ Gul’dan’s hand was distracting him, beginning to fondle his dangly bits.

“Come now, little mage. It is a good look.”

“I can’t be seen like this.” Khadgar dissolved his mirror and pleaded with Gul’dan. “Take it back.”

“I can’t.” Gul’dan answered with a sadness in his eyes. “Before you object, at least take some time to feel?” He continued to stroke Khadgar, causing the man to let out a soft, breathy moan. “Cast something. Go on.”

“Not in here.” Khadgar shook his head, pressing himself into Gul’dan without even trying. “I would have to go outside to…”

Gul’dan clicked his fingers. Suddenly, he was outside with Khadgar beside the lava pits. It was snowing lightly and Khadgar conjured clothes for himself and Gul’dan at once. However, his own favourite coat was now blackened and tattered in places, the silver scales at the top tarnished. Gul’dan got to wear a similar cloak, and it was a little big for him. Barefoot in the snow, he stepped over to the edge of the lava pit with the most rock available around it. It was hot, but better than ice. Khadgar followed and stood beside him, staring into the glowing red pit. He had the impulse to create a fire elemental, his usual favourite and strongest thing to conjure. Particles of flame came together as they always did from the air, Khadgar concentrating the magical energy floating around into a singular being. However, he found his pure arcane abilities a little harder to focus and when he poured raw power into the creature, it became an easy task. His thoughts flowed with more clarity than they ever had, and when he opened his eyes he gasped. The elemental was fucking _massive_ , taking up the entire lava pit with _legs_ dripping liquid flame. It was mostly orange but its eyes glowed green and cracked pieces of black rock were stuck to its teardrop shaped body. Gul’dan clapped his hands together, doing his best to balance without his staff.

“Very nice.”

“What…” Khadgar craned his neck up to look at the elemental. “Why is it so big?”

“More power makes for a greater construction, don’t you know?” Gul’dan tapped the side of his head. “I’d like to see this one fight.”

“I wouldn’t.” Khadgar shivered. “It’s… stronger than the ones I usually make.”

“Fine!” Gul’dan turned his back on the elemental and began waving his hands about. The words he uttered were so dark and delectable that Khadgar wouldn’t have minded some of that demonic dirty talk in the bedroom. Dripping with blackness off Gul’dan’s tongue, the incantation ended with what sounded like a curse word. The snow exploded and out from the ground rose a demon, the same height as the elemental and with the same coloured eyes.

“Kill it!” Gul’dan ordered, and the demon obeyed. Khadgar’s elemental took one look at the demon and then glanced at its own master.

“Why?”

“You don’t question, damn it! It’s a demon! Kill it!” Khadgar was both shocked and exasperated at once. “Damn it Gul’dan, that was uncalled for!”

Gul’dan roared with laughter as his demon smacked the elemental in its face, sending it into the lava pit with a splash. He put up a quick protective shield against himself and Khadgar and saw some of the nearby snow melt. This was far enough from the Garrison that nobody would see what was going on, but the sounds… well, demonic screeching was fairly common in Draenor anyway. Elemental howling however, was not. Khadgar’s creation was having one bigass identity crisis and looked at its hands. They glowed green with fel energy, and were controlled by a mind that was tainted by the same. Khadgar suddenly grew enraged and threw his hands up, the lava swirling into a tornado around his elemental.

“I did NOT create you so you could STAND there and take a beating! I _COMMAND_ you to fight!”  
The elemental responded. As the demon reached in to grab it by the head, the elemental clenched its hard fists and set the entire creature on fire. _Natural_ fire, not felfire. This stuff _burned_ and the demon shrieked, lashing bolts of dark energy at the elemental who _absorbed them_. It grew taller, darker, a mixture of fel and normal fire swirling around it with enough lava to scorch an entire troop of soldiers. Gul’dan stepped back, impressed. He saw how Khadgar’s neck muscles stuck out and his wide eyes had begun to appear entirely green, scleras included. Then, Khadgar gave an order in such a deep, authoritative voice that Gul’dan felt a chill spread through his body.

“ ** _KILL HIM._** ”

The elemental roared and sent the entire lava pit from the air towards the demon and melted _everything_. The demon’s dying wails pierced the air and not even the twisting nether would accept _that_ mangled mess for reanimation. Without a rez the demon was gone and Gul’dan breathed out. He hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath.

“Well done.” He praised Khadgar with a shaky smile. Khadgar stared at his elemental, then looked at Gul’dan. His face had a strangely lined, twisted expression. “Now… do calm down.”

“ ** _YOU_** _calm down!”_ Khadgar roared and fired a bright green mystic bolt towards Gul’dan. The warlock’s protective shield shimmered and Gul’dan did a sick backflip out of instinct.

“Khadgar!” He yelled, beginning one hell of a cast that would banish the elemental first and deal with Khadgar later. _‘I gave him too much…! He does not know how to control it yet, this was a baaaad idea!! Damn it, I have to think before I bust a nut into an Archmage again.’_

Khadgar, a mage before a warrior, lifted the very ground Gul’dan stood on and sprinkled lightning upon him. Gul’dan deflected every bolt with his right hand, the left holding most of his power. He oneshot the elemental into a thousand fiery pieces that rained down on himself and the furious Khadgar. Demonic energy was in its nature chaotic, derived from the madness of Disorder. Khadgar was internally struggling with his old, familiar magic from the school of Order now being tainted with its opposition. As a result, the clash within him gave rise to pure, exultant rage. It felt _good_ to scream his head off at Gul’dan, unleashing the combat prowess he’d longed to show. Gul’dan wished he had his staff but could control his magic without it and slammed an explosive wall into Khadgar. Khadgar at the exact same time channeled energy in projectile form towards Gul’dan, and the air cracked as both forces met. All the snow within a three mile radius had evaporated and the ground was cracked with a green glow coming from beneath. All around, the little sprigs of frostweed and cinderbloom withered and creatures could be heard screaming in the distance. Khadgar’s eyes were bulging out of his face, his teeth grit and entire body strained with the effort of beaming raw energy out of his hands. Gul’dan meanwhile was braced against his wall, pushing it as best he could towards Khadgar. His fingers trembled and his concentration was being interrupted frequently by the thought of _‘What if I kill him?’_ His back ached the longer he had to stay standing and he felt ready to fall over and melt. But he would not be defeated by Khadgar, the one he had given a good fel fucking less than twelve hours ago.

“KHADGAR!” he roared, voice barely heard over the crackling magics. “YOU HAVE TO STOP THIS! YOU NEED TO LEARN TO CONTROL IT!”

Khadgar did not hear him, consumed by the raw power coursing through his body. Green tinged his skin all the way up to his forearms now and he started walking towards Gul’dan. Seeing this, Gul’dan began stepping back… until he felt a rock behind him. Khadgar chose this moment to blink, and Gul’dan twisted around to hide behind the rock, his wall exploding as Khadgar’s bolt went right through it, past the rock. Gul’dan gasped as the heat parched him, sucking all moisture out of the air.

“COWARD!” Khadgar shouted, floating high into the air as his hands were enveloped in swirling felfire. Gul’dan took one look at him and teleported, but ended up a short distance away – too shaken to concentrate. He tried again, focussing on Hellfire Citadel and managed to escape just as another bolt came towards him. He collapsed on the floor just meters from his throne, panting.

“Master,” he gasped, and Kil’jaeden was there in moments.

_-Yes, I saw. You took the power I gave you and offered it to him. Gul’dan, you are a **fool**.- _ The Eredar laughed like the sound of a rolling storm and Gul’dan pleaded with him.

“Please, do something. He… cannot control it.”

_-And? He will destroy anyone he comes into contact with. I shall send him to Azeroth.-_

“No!” Gul’dan did not want Khadgar to be consumed by the fel and have no-one to hold him through the agonizing experience. “Just… tell me what to do.”

_-Leave him.-_ Then Kil’jaeden was gone, leaving mockery and amusement in the air. Gul’dan hung his head, slinking over to rest upon his throne.

_‘…I hope he will survive.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just to break up the smut and meandering plot, hey? ᕕ(σ ³σ)ᕗ


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> livin' it up at the Hotel Hellfire Citadel *guitar melody*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (ง ﾟᗜ ﾟ)ง strong gore warning for the last quarter of this chapter. i like putting details in lol dOmEsTIC Khad'dan (ง ﾟᗜ ﾟ)ง

Khadgar blinked. _‘What kind of vision was that?’_ Standing in the middle of his room, he had only just thought to remove his clothes to go and sleep but a flash of imagery hit him before he could. As Gul’dan and Kil’jaeden’s voices faded out of his ears, there was a knock at the door. Khadgar panicked.

 _‘Shit. Vision or dream? I have to stop this before it happens.’_ He let the delivery goblin in, seeing the box pushed forth and actually taking notice. There was the eye of the Kirin Tor painted in blood on the top, probably meant to pass for ‘official mage business’. Nobody had inspected it and now, Khadgar was supposed to…

“Wait.”

The goblin turned. “What is it, mister? I’m busy.”

“Can you, uh, return this to whoever sent it?”

“This is Draenor, not Stormwind. Nobody has addresses around here. Just open it, will you?” The goblin narrowed her yellow eyes. “It was damn heavy!”

“C-could I pay you to drop it in some lava?” Khadgar tried, and saw her eyes light up moments before they went dark. A ghostly surge of white was pulled from her and into the box, where Gul’dan had stolen her life. He then promptly materialized atop the box, glaring at Khadgar.

“Lava, Khadgar? _Really_? After all the trouble I went through to get here…”

“What do you want?” hissed Khadgar, unnerved at the shriveled corpse now laying halfway in the hallway. “You shouldn’t be here. If you wanted to check on me, you could have scried, sent a raven, anything!”

“Warlock magic doesn’t allow for scrying to places we’ve never been to.” Gul’dan explained as if he spoke to a child, one he was growing increasingly frustrated with. He didn’t have his staff with him and seemed to be in some amount of pain, balancing himself with difficulty. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. You can’t stay here.”

“Whyever not?” Khadgar stayed where he was, looking into his enemy’s reddish orange eyes. Already he was growing his defenses and Gul’dan could feel the magic rising in the air.

“It’s not safe.” Urgency quickened Gul’dan’s hoarse voice into a mess of clicking syllables. “They’re going to kill you.”

“What?” Khadgar couldn’t believe this and took a step forwards. “Gul’dan, this is the home of _my_ allies. They have no reason to-” A low succession of footsteps became noticeable, growing faster. Then an enormous figure appeared in the doorway, looking down at the dead goblin courier with great sadness in his gaze. Gul’dan began to turn, eyes wide and hands shaking.

Durotan set a hand on Gul’dan’s shoulder, weighing him down.

“You will not escape this time.” It seemed as if he spoke to Khadgar too, looking at the mage with utter betrayal etched deep into his face.

“Don’t kill him.” said Khadgar, and Durotan cut his attention right back to Gul’dan, who was unusually quiet.

Gul’dan thought for a mere second and Durotan saw the flash in his eyes, felt the tensing of his muscles. Just as a burst of fire erupted around Gul’dan, Durotan shoved him away and grabbed one of the spikes on his back. He wrenched it down and broke it off, causing Gul’dan to howl in agony. The warlock crumpled to the floor, shaking. That had nudged his entire spine up quite violently, compressing his optic nerve at the base of his neck and blurring his vision. Strange colours erupted from every corner of the room and pain spread through every single cell of Gul’dan’s body.

“Durotan!” Khadgar had never known the Frostwolf Warchief to rise so quickly to violence. “I just _told_ you not to kill him!”  
“He’s still alive.” Durotan growled. “What reason does he have to breathe a moment longer? Look at this pathetic wretch. He has betrayed his people.”

“His people. He has never _belonged_ to a people, damn it! All he does is for self-preservation and to serve the Legion, who will probably kill him if he disobeys.”

Durotan watched Khadgar rush to Gul’dan’s side and was shocked to see him lift up the trembling, disoriented orc.

“You are on his side.” said Durotan, wielding the broken spike as a weapon. His other hand clenched into a fist. “I thought you and your followers knew the difference between right and wrong.”

“Don’t you dare.” Khadgar shielded Gul’dan in a ball of blue light, his hand extended towards Durotan with clawed fingers. “We will settle this when you have _composed_ yourself.” He disappeared then with Gul’dan, retreating to his tower in Zangarra. Durotan roared and threw the spike to the ground, where it promptly burst into a cloud of fel smoke. The world had gone mad.

 

~

 

Gul’dan fell face first onto Khadgar’s bed, the lasting tingles of foreign magic dripping away from his resistant, corrupted body. He wasn’t used to being teleported abruptly and a tight chill compressed his chest. Khadgar rushed to his side, unsure of what to do. He was a dps-oriented mage, not a healer, and held his hands out as Gul’dan shakily turned his head.

“Don’t worry. I’m going to fix this.”

Gul’dan did not respond, stuffing his face into the sheets as his slight body shook violently. A mixture of blood with a little bone marrow was pouring from the wound in his back, and he could not restrain his small, choked whimpers. Khadgar had never in his life seen an orc _cry_ before, and was at a loss for what to do. Moments prior, Gul’dan had been concerned for his safety and Khadgar had dismissed it entirely. Now, things had been turned around.

“Gul’dan…”

The warlock hissed. “Ghhhhhhh… g…get me… a… sacrificccccceee…” His voice was a little higher than normal and Khadgar felt his heart clench.

“A sacrifice? For power, right?”

“Nyeerrghhhsss…” Gul’dan could hardly see let alone congeal his thoughts into a proper sentence. “Bring… me… someone….” Then he whispered. “Please…”

Khadgar nodded and jumped out the window, levitating safely down to the ground a hundred meters below. He landed beside a Warden, who shrieked and drew her sword. He ran off towards where the Wardens had their camp, a short distance away from his tower and all the Kirin Tor magi. He couldn’t believe he was doing this, but a force other than his own will pushed him to seek the one he knew would fill the needed position. Someone who would give their own life, having lost all hope in it after years of unending loss. Warden Alexis.

He found her laying on the ground, staring up at the sky with no expression at all.

“Excuse me…”

Alexis looked at him. “I do not want to fight.”

“You don’t have to.” Khadgar said gently as he knelt to touch her shoulder. “I need you for something else. Please come with me.”

“Will you end my suffering after this task?” she drawled, rising to her feet and walking beside him, posture slouched.

“Yes.” said Khadgar. “You have been through enough, and no longer in good conscience can I ask you to serve.”

Alexis didn’t believe him. The other Wardens stared as their sister was seen moving for the first time in days, like a prisoner on a death march. Bound by duty to not take her own life, she had waited for orders, too weary to complete them. Now she obeyed Khadgar and made it to the top of his tower, where he opened the door. The first thing she saw was a green arm attached to a crumpled body, hand reaching towards her from atop the bed. Then she collapsed. Gul’dan took the second life he had in the past half hour but this time, he _needed_ it. Alexis had once possessed great physical strength and Gul’dan began healing himself. Bright green energy swirled around the captured soul in his hand. It spread down the veins in his wrist up through his body and towards his back, where a burst of fire blackened his flesh so it would bleed no more. Gul’dan groaned, shivering. He wasn’t used to being wounded like this and it frightened him, to lose control over the way he looked. He was sure that Khadgar thought him a weak, sniveling mess, and he curled into himself as best he could. A soft green glow went up and down his spine before it faded away. Khadgar approached, but not after taking Alexis’s body and dissolving it into energy. He did so with quiet reverence, returning her back to the universe, continuing the cycle of life and death. He sat then beside Gul’dan and after a moment’s thought, picked up the warlock’s limp hand. Gul’dan tensed, still waiting for his dull agony to subside, but Khadgar held him and did not say a word. After a time, Gul’dan dared to look at him with bloodshot eyes. Greenish-black lines spidered their way towards his red pupils.

“Thank you…” he muttered. “You are…” Gul’dan held his breath as he searched for the right words. “…a loyal friend.”

Khadgar was struck by this. “I... suppose?” After all, if not that then what _was_ he to Gul’dan? Certainly no longer his enemy, missing chance after chance to kill him. His lover perhaps when they were together in private, and no-one was on the verge of bleeding to death. Yes, he could deal with being friends. It was much less terrifying than being _mated_.

Gul’dan squeezed Khadgar’s hand lightly. “Will you come closer?” he asked, peering at the mage from the corner of one eye. Khadgar shifted to sit properly on the bed and ran his free hand over Gul’dan’s head, petting him. He knew not what possessed him to do so, but the reaction he got was enough to make him continue. Gul’dan _smiled_ and his racing heart calmed, Khadgar sensing it from his hand. Time passed. And Gul’dan healed.

 

At the Garrison however, tensions were high.

“He _killed_ an innocent courier.” Durotan spoke through gritted teeth, facing Warmaster Zog. Saurfang looked from orc to orc, fiddling with his one of his thick grey braids.

“And?” Zog’s brows drew together. “What do you want me to do about it? Gul’dan came, he went. Only one died.”

“You are missing the point! He should not have been allowed here in the first place! Vengeance is not my way, but after what he did to the Archmage…”

“Yes, about that.” Zog leaned on the command table, causing it to creak. “I haven’t seen anything wrong with the Archmage, and he is useful when he is around. He offers good insights from his recon in the Citadel. Why would you even _think_ to have him killed?”

“I tell you, Warmaster, he is on _their_ side! Gul’dan has corrupted him!”

“Durotan…” Saurfang reached forth to gesture for the chieftain’s attention but Durotan slammed his fist into the command table, silencing him.

“I will _not_ have Khadgar in our Garrison again, contacting Gul’dan and arranging foul dealings.”

“ _My_ Garrison.” Commander Mazok walked into the room and Saurfang winced. Now was _not_ a good time to be playing with authority. “What’s all this about mages, corruption and killing?” Someone outside had briefed him and _he knew_. His long red hair swished behind him as he came to a stop beside Zog, standing with him to face Durotan’s fury.

“Commander.” Durotan growled. “The Archmage has been swayed towards Gul’dan’s purpose- the _Legion_ ’s purpose. Twice I have seen the two conspire, and in case you didn’t know, Gul’dan was here a few hours ago.”

“Of course. That’s why I’m awake at this hour, to listen to you lot bicker about something that’s already happened. The Archmage is gone. Gul’dan too. Why worry?”

“Wh-why WORRY?” Durotan roared, his hands clenching into fists. “What if they come back?!”

“Then we kill them.” Mazok explained slowly. “By the ancestors, are you _dense_? Why is this even being discussed? Traitors come, traitors die. Gul’dan arrives in a fucking _box_ , the courier dies. Everyone dies!” He threw his hands up into the air. “It’s war. Things happen. Now every single one of you will go _right_ back to sleep, for we march on the Citadel tomorrow and leave no one behind.”

Durotan was eased by the idea of taking the fight to Gul’dan himself, hoping he was still wounded by the time they reached Hellfire Citadel in a week. Laying hands upon him had felt _good_. The threat of bloodlust overtaking him, not so much. Turning away from the gathered group, he made his way back to his room and kept his eyes peeled for danger. Durotan didn’t sleep well at all. Gul’dan and Khadgar however, did.

 

~

 

Come morning, Gul’dan found himself curled up with Khadgar. His head was on the mage’s chest and all limbs were thoroughly tangled. His plans had worked. Testing whether or not Khadgar would save his life had been terrifying, but the slight trust he had in the mage had grown exponentially with last night’s results. Khadgar had even healed him, something nobody had ever done before. A life, one of Khadgar’s own people’s, had been sacrificed for Gul’dan’s benefit. Now the warlock was _sure_ he had Khadgar right where he wanted him. He smiled.

Khadgar felt it and opened his eyes just a tad. There were lips and teeth in contact with his chest along with the edge of a cheekbone.

“Ngh…”

It took some time before he could pull himself out of bed, easing Gul’dan up with him. His body felt heavy, muscles strained as if overworked. Before he could say anything, the warlock spoke.

“Come with me.”

“Mn?” Khadgar tilted his head to the side. His face itched a bit, and he figured it was time for a shave.

“Come to the Citadel. You will be safe there.”

“…About that. You said someone was going to kill me in the Garrison?”

Gul’dan nodded. “Durotan.” His eyes narrowed as he spat out his words. “That _bastard_. He thinks you a traitor.”

“Well…” Khadgar looked away, out the arched window on the left side of his room. “I can see why. I haven’t killed you yet, and…” _‘Oh, Light. I defended you. I didn’t **mean** to, but…’_

“Yes.” Gul’dan shifted around, sitting half on Khadgar’s lap. “He will kill you. If you come to the Citadel, nobody will.”  
“I’d like to see him try.” Khadgar snorted. “Magic always triumphs over might.”

“Hm, hm.” Gul’dan found himself taking pride in Khadgar’s words. Yes, this one knew what was up. Knew how to control his power, and could work well away from any melee mishaps. “In any case. I can take us there now. They will find you here otherwise.”

“Sure, why not. Why don’t I go and live in a fortress surrounded by demons and orcs and Light knows what else.”

Gul’dan did not miss the sarcasm and narrowed his eyes. “Would you rather fight against your former allies?”

Khadgar shrugged. “I fight for Azeroth. My only **real** enemy is the Legion.” He watched Gul’dan’s face carefully as he said this, and only saw a flicker of some dark, unknown emotion pass through the warlock’s eyes. Then, Gul’dan smiled a very fake smile.

“At least it isn’t me. Now! Make haste.” He flicked his hand towards the wall and threw open a nice big portal. “Throw whatever you need in there.”

Khadgar took his sweet time bundling up tomes, scrolls, packing potions and securing chests full of various items before he dumped everything through the portal. Then, he summoned some extra strength into his arms and picked up Gul’dan.

“You too.” said Khadgar, causing Gul’dan to blush deeply. The portal closed behind them and Khadgar walked right into the Chamber of Darkness, the room where Gul’dan had his throne, tables and endless pantry. All the stuff was spread out on the floor and none of it was broken.

“My chambers are just above.” said Gul’dan, still in Khadgar’s arms and pointing across the room to a discreet ramp swirling against the wall, to the far left of his throne. “There are shelves over there, crates there…” He gestured and then Khadgar put him down.

“Well, it seems I have work to do.” Khadgar smiled. “Just one question.”

“What is it?” Gul’dan asked, tilting his head to the side and leaning on the nearby table as he did so. His staff still rested against his throne and he glanced at it for a second.

“How am I supposed to go anywhere around here without being slaughtered on sight?” Khadgar looked pointedly exasperated. “Come now. Surely you thought about that?”

“Indeed.” Gul’dan waved his right hand around, touching Khadgar’s face as he finished. “There. Now you have a disguise.”

Khadgar conjured a mirror at once to look at himself but it shattered a second later, an ear-splitting roar coming from the open chamber doors. Green light flooded in from the hallway outside and a massive blue dreadlord doubled over, panting.

“Master!” he gasped, breath steaming in front of his face. “The… there’s… a… raid…”

“Abraxxas!” Gul’dan smacked the dreadlord across the cheek with an arc of sharp fel energy. “I thought I taught you how to knock! Can’t you see I’m BUSY?”

“Ghahh!” Abraxxas winced and then noticed Khadgar, who was wincing from the sudden pain in his head. “Wait. Who is that?”

“Uh…” Khadgar couldn’t believe the huge demon actually thought he was an orc, and his voice came out slurred through his newly structured jaw. “Gad’kar, warlock.”

“Warlock? That would explain the… human… artifacts… behind you…” Abraxxas narrowed his glowing red eyes. “Master, you do not usually-”

“Shut up!” Gul’dan snarled. “I do what I want! Now go and deal with that raid!”

“But… Master…” Abraxxas tapped his huge, black-clawed fingers together. “It’s Mythic…”

Gul’dan swallowed a curse. _‘Shit.’_ Khadgar, or, um _Gad’kar_ , wanted to laugh. Was this how the infamous, terrifying and unbelievably powerful Lords of Hellfire Citadel acted when a strong force had infiltrated their home? His mirth faded. He would do the same, had he heard the Burning Legion was coming to Dalaran.

Gul’dan yelled at the concerned dreadlord. “Are you too WEAK to fight on your own? Do you need _me_ to attend to things for you, you incompetent nether-spawned dog?”

Abraxxas sighed, looking utterly depressed. The last time he’d died, he’d been reincarnated into the body of a mouse. He was not looking forward to the Legion’s necromancers fucking with him again.

“Please help us.”

Gul’dan sighed, making a show of how stupid he thought all this was. Inwardly, he giggled with the pleasure of being needed. Hell yeah. He was going to make himself _useful_ today.

He turned to Khadgar, who was watching the exchange, dumbfounded.

“You. Sort through the artifacts and see if you can find anything of use. Anything valuable goes upstairs.” Without another moment’s consideration, Gul’dan called his staff to him and walked briskly alongside Abraxxas, who shot Khadgar a parting look of suspicion. Once left alone, Khadgar let out a breath of relief.

 _‘Damn.’_ He conjured up another mirror to finally look at himself properly. As green as Gul’dan with a little white goatee and similarly coloured hair to his broad shoulders, Gad’kar the Orc Warlock had thick, muscular arms and a phantom sense of being bigger than he actually was. His skeleton hadn’t changed, but his facial structure had as that was what most orcs looked at when determining friend or foe. He opened his mouth and touched the tusks on either side, staring. _‘How does Gul’dan **eat** with these things, let alone kiss me and not tear my face off?’_   His entire head felt so _heavy_ , and he had to clench his jaw to keep it from falling open. Khadgar made faces at himself in the mirror, then did his best orc impression.

“Graaaah~” He managed to startle himself, and then laughed. _‘Oh, his illusions are **good**. This would be fun to run around with back home, if it didn’t mean I’d be killed on sight.’_ After thoroughly amusing himself, he looked around. The tall shelves he could levitate up to and most of his stuff he could hide in Gul’dan’s personal chambers. While he went around organizing things, Mr Darkness Incarnate was awaiting the raid. Dressed in full regalia with spikes _everywhere_ , the armour blood-red and glowing green from within, Gul’dan stood on a platform behind Abraxxas. He adjusted his floor length robes, eyes fixed on the dreadlord’s swaying tail.

“Have you been training?” he asked, glancing up as Abraxxas looked at him.

“Yes, I have.” Abraxxas clenched his fine buttocks together and stilled. Screaming could be heard down the hall, which opened into this particular room. Vast and with a ring of fel sludge around the central, circular floor, it was steaming hot with magical energy. Gul’dan peered around Abraxxas’s thick waist to see the raid leader sprinting ahead of his companions. Only it wasn’t the raid leader. It was a skinny blood-elf in oversized armour, pauldrons bigger than his head and weapon much the same. He jumped around the room, avoiding the glowing cracks in the grey steel floor. In Common, the others were yelling at him to stop. Just as the twelve of them entered the room covered in the blood of orcs and demons, the elf planted his feet a few meters away from Abraxxas. The dreadlord looked down. The elf, a Paladin, stepped forwards and then back. Abraxxas raised an eyebrow, then grunted as Gul’dan tapped him on the thigh.

“He’s pulling you.” said Gul’dan. “Go.”

So Abraxxas did, and smote down the Paladin with an explosion of raw chaos. It was a single burst of over 800,000 shadow damage and it rippled across the room, knocking most of the others off their feet. Suddenly the Paladin disappeared and Gul’dan raised his staff, locking the doors behind the retreating raid. Abraxxas let out a long, dark string of curses that tore rifts in the air, spawning hundreds of eager demons, imps and unnamed atrocities. All of them were very eager to escape the Twisting Nether and once let loose, swarmed the raid. Gul’dan began casting liquid hellfire, calling it into a massive orb high in the center of the room. The orc warrior wearing full black plate armour pointed at it and screamed incoherently as it fell. Boiling felfire splashed onto the walls, corroded the floor and stuck to the ceiling like tar. The entire raid wiped in an instant and soon the only sounds were impish shrieks of delight as the little creatures played in the sticky mess. The demons looked to Abraxxas, who turned to Gul’dan. Gul’dan looked mightily pleased with himself and began to walk off. Cool dudes didn’t look at explosions, and the horrendously bright yellow-green glow in here was starting to hrut his eyes. Abraxxas sighed.

“Alright, you lot. Clean this up.”

“With what?” asked a small red demon, shortly before he was kicked aside by a bigger one. “Bwaugh!”

“Lick it, I don’t know.” Abraxxas rubbed the sides of his head. “Urgh. I hate raids.”

 

~

 

Upstairs, Khadgar was making good use of his new strength to carry his huge chest of Apexis crystals up to Gul’dan’s chambers. It seemed he’d been given magically enhanced lifting capabilities, so that if he as an orc was asked to do something physically taxing, he would be able to perform. Gul’dan’s chambers were small and cozy, despite looking absolutely demonic. A dark altar with a green pentagram backed the far right wall, the first thing Khadgar noticed when he entered. In the center of the room was a bed with black sheets, a thin silken canopy and a few tentacles underneath. Opposite the bed was a bookshelf of twisted, dark wood and Khadgar could feel the energy radiating from every single tome. Scrolls were kept in a drawer nearby, and atop the desk in the corner to the direct left of the doorway were various bottles. Some held moving creatures, other still liquids. There were no windows in here, for Gul’dan was not too fond of natural light. Instead, unlit braziers of black, spiked metal jutted from either side of the doorway and there was one above the altar, too. Khadgar felt around for secret passages, finding one in the suspicious space beside the altar. He could not, however, open it and was met with resistance when trying all his old tricks. Clearly, it only responded to the Fel. He left his chest at the foot of the bed, and put his tomes on the unused top of the bookshelf. His eyes flickered over what Gul’dan had in here, necromantic manuals and spooky grimoires. Khadgar shivered. Just _what_ was his new roommate interested in? Other than wanton death and destruction. Closer to the bottom of the bookshelf Khadgar found some strange titles in orcish. Among them: _Finding a Mate for the Discerning Warrior, 420 Essential Herbs of Draenor, Fifty Shades of Draenei Blood, Kalimdor’s Favourite Ways to Cook Humans, Groveling without Losing Honor III, How I met your Warchief…_ He straightened his back. _‘Cooking humans? Yeesh…’_ Just as he was considering taking a look to sate his curiosity (the book was rather thick, how many ways could there possibly be?) he heard the hollow tapping of Gul’dan’s staff. The warlock appeared at the top of the ramp moments later, walking through the doorway.

“I see you’ve made yourself comfortable… _Gad’kar_.” Gul’dan laughed, and if he’d been injured in the raid he didn’t show a sign of exertion for it. “Aaahahahah, what a _stupid_ name! I can’t believe Abraxxas fell for it.”

“Ehm. I was under a lot of pressure, you know. I’ve never seen a dreadlord that close before.” Khadgar scratched the back of his head and winced – his nails were pointy and sharp, irritating his skin. But no blood was drawn. He had _much_ thicker skin now.

“Pressure?” Gul’dan snorted, muffling his cackling laughter in one hand. “Pfffthcch. He won’t hurt you. Nobody will unless given reason, and I will teach you how to avoid that.”

“Oh?” Khadgar sat on the bed, sinking in a little as the monstrous mattress awoke. “And tell me, would you kill him if he tried to murder me? Just casually, you know how demons are.” His jovial tone carried only a slight hint of fear. Gul’dan took note of where Khadgar had placed his things and went to sit beside him.

“I would. Abraxxas always comes back, anyway. Believe it or not, he fears death. The nethermancers are not kind to him.”

“A demon, fearing death? Hmph.” Khadgar leaned on Gul’dan a little. “You sure have a strange lot working for you.”

“Eh.” Gul’dan shrugged. “At least they work. Speaking of which…” He stood, his armour clinking as he did so. “I got all dressed up for nothing. Help me out of this, will you?”

Khadgar had little experience in things like this but tried nonetheless, finding straps and buckles and undoing all of them. Gul’dan looked _much_ smaller out of his armour, which was what Khadgar was used to. Even in robes, he seemed different. More… official. When he was shuffling around in a loincloth and cape, he looked more like a crazy orc shaman trying to summon a reason to live. Gul’dan kept his robes on and turned to Khadgar, wrapping one arm around the mage’s waist. He cuddled up beside him and didn’t say anything, deeply in thought. Khadgar probed his mind to see what he was thinking of, but the moment he tried, Gul’dan sat up straight.

“I’m going to get something to eat. Care to join me?”

“Oh, yes. I was wondering if you had anything proper.” Khadgar took the most diplomatic tone he possibly could, striding alongside Gul’dan down the ramp, into the Chamber of Darkness. Gul’dan tugged on Khadgar’s hooded cloak, the standard warlock fare he’d added to the illusion.

“I’ll find something. Amuse yourself, I will be back shortly.” He left Khadgar by the pantry, exiting as fast as he could. Gul’dan made his way to one of the open areas along the twisting pathways through Hellfire Citadel, leaving the path to walk past a few busy orcs. He came to a wall with a demon standing in front of it, and before the demon was a pit of felfire.

“Hello, Master.” said the demon, grinning at Gul’dan. “Here to torture the weak?”

“Naturally.” Gul’dan clicked his fingers and beside the demon, a portal opened. Seconds later an orc fell out and the demon put on a bright pink apron with little yellow flowers on it. Old blood stained most of the chest and lower section. With one hand he picked up the fallen orc, a warrior with clear terror in his wide greenish-red eyes. He had been taken from the dungeons, where the weak were sent to be punished or _wait_. For what, they never knew. Nobody spoke of it.

The demon, Grimkath the Butcher, grabbed his cleaver. The orc was held up, a fully tainted fel orc with red skin and a powerfully muscled body. Gul’dan glanced around him and then gestured.

“Slices from here, and I’ll take his heart, too.”

The orc’s eyes widened. “N..no…!!!!” He began to writhe and shriek as Grimkath sliced up and down his buttocks and thighs, carving neat slices that fell into a bucket below. It happened so fast that Gul’dan had to be impressed at Grimkath’s efficiency.

“Well done.” said Gul’dan, watching the bucket be passed over the fire a few times. He knew from research that humans didn’t usually eat raw meat. It was a shame – it tasted much better when fresh. As Grimkath worked his culinary magic, he asked Gul’dan,

“You want fries with that?”

“Mh, just regular potatoes.” They existed in Tanaan, though corrupt and unusually large. Gul’dan had peons farming them for his own private uses.

Grimkath barked an order to a nearby orc, who’d been watching hungrily and departed at once. He returned a short while later with a bowl of suspicious light green paste, and handed it to Gul’dan. Gul’dan levitated all that Grimkath gave him, including the still-beating heart of the tortured, supposedly weak orc. It was a regular lunch for him, and once he sucked the life essence from the orc’s mutilated body, he was ready to go and look after Khadgar.

Khadgar had found a goblet. It was silver with emeralds set around it and had just been sitting on the table to the left of the entrance doors. Next to it was a note that said _don’t eat too many_. Inside were several small, squished green balls with a bit of thickness to them. They had a magical aura about them, looked like stones, and despite knowing it could kill him, Khadgar dared to try one. It tasted like the hard green apple candy he had eaten once in Dalaran, with a much more sour taste. He winced and swallowed, feeling a burst of energy run down his throat. It was definitely impossible to consume much of these without wanting to scrape his tongue off, and Khadgar set the goblet aside. While his tastebuds were on cooldown, he practised drawing sigils into the table. Ten minutes passed before the doors opened and Gul’dan returned. He had two plates floating before him (clearly conjured, Khadgar had seen no cutlery or tableware anywhere during his snooping around)  and there was a clear air of sorcery about. More than what usually followed Gul’dan. He was… concealing something. A cooling orc heart, but Khadgar didn’t know that. All he saw as Gul’dan set the plates down was a massive hunk of bread surrounded by crumbs, and sliced meat cooked to a proper shade of brown with green goop beside it.

“Er, Gul’dan. What is this?” Khadgar poked at the ‘mashed potatoes’, which had been _pulverised_ by a warhammer.

“Food. It won’t kill you.” Gul’dan clicked his fingers and from a pipe running under the tabletop, he filled himself a cup of bright green fel. He tilted it towards Khadgar. “There’s water on your side.”

Khadgar checked and saw a pipe with a tap on it. Gul’dan could magically move all his sources around this room just by thinking about it. Water was drawn from deep beneath the citadel and portals got it to where it needed to be. Convenient. So, Khadgar got something to drink that wasn’t going to burn him. Various cups, goblets and books were scattered along the table, which stretched from one end of the room to the other, just like the one beside it. Khadgar nibbled his meat bits, eating with his fingers. He did make quite a mess though, unused to having thick orcish fingers and a wide, tusked mouth.

“Mlergh. Can you turn me back to normal? I can hardly eat with these teeth.” Khadgar asked, watching the unusually vast quantities of crumbs spilling from Gul’dan’s chunk of bread. The warlock shook his head, crunching into the bread with a peaceful expression on his face.

“I lied when I said there wouldn’t be interruptions. Some of my servants don’t know how to behave, and this _is_ where most meetings take place. If they need to see me, they will.” He gestured to the pantry. “All the herbs and stones used for rituals, cooking and so on… in here.” Then up to his chambers. “Reading material to study… the warlocks do knock, though.”

“Mhm.” Khadgar stuffed a handful of meat and mash into his face, ravenous. He’d not eaten in about half a day, and was used to steady meals when not at war. He couldn’t exactly pinpoint _when_ he’d given up on war and chasing Gul’dan, but now he was here eating lunch with his former enemy and he found nothing wrong with it. After a time, Gul’dan asked him something.

“Is it alright?”

“Yes, yes.” Anything cooked with felfire stayed hot for quite a while and Khadgar was pleased with the temperature and taste of his food. He said nothing about how strange it was that Gul’dan would eat just bread (no-one in the Citadel functioned well on raw carbs) but had to ask, “What is it?”

“Orc.” said Gul’dan, dead serious. “Only the freshest for my beloved little mage.” His voice lilted as he spoke, resting his cheek in his palm. He chuckled as Khadgar stopped chewing and looked down at his nearly empty plate with wide eyes.

“…Orc?”

“Mhm. They prefer to eat beasts and adventurers. I couldn’t be bothered going hunting, so… I figured you wouldn’t mind.” It wasn’t _human_ , and that was the only thing Gul’dan could think of that Khadgar would turn his nose at. Khadgar instead looked at Gul’dan with newfound horror.

“How can you watch me eat this?”

Gul’dan shrugged. “He was weak. His life was meaningless.”

“The weak can grow strong!” said Khadgar, clenching his messy hands into fists. Gul’dan looked at them, then up at Khadgar.

“I know.” he said softly. A green spark danced in his eyes. “I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ps here is a picture of khadgar being pleased at a fel infusion https://s4.postimg.org/8ztd24a59/ezgif_4275241169.gif i hope u like ^^


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prepare yourself: bullshit raid shenanigans, made-up magic and a completely cheesed fight. :D I warned you

A few days had passed. Khadgar didn’t quite know what to make of the fact that Gul’dan automatically assumed they would sleep together, but it was not unpleasant. At night, the warlock would curl against him and often he would wake with a face buried in his neck. Once or twice he had awoken to find Gul’dan watching him… but never got a response out of the orc. During the day, he busied himself with learning the many, many passageways of Hellfire Citadel. When his legs ached or too many eyes turned towards him, he retreated to the safety of the Chamber of Darkness. Often, Gul’dan had the braziers lit and it was warm and quiet in there. Khadgar was permitted to study Gul’dan’s tomes and nearly all of them detailed magic he’d never delved into before. He practised it only in small amounts, for he was only as corrupt as he allowed himself to be. He was careful in taking bodily pleasures from Gul’dan, afraid of turning his handsome human form green. It seemed even in the body of an orc, Gul’dan was into him. Though when they lay together, Gul’dan dismissed the illusions and let Khadgar be himself. He vowed to keep the mage safe. Near. _Owned_.

Today, Khadgar was pacing. In his throne, Gul’dan watched with furrowed brows.

“Little mage, what is the matter? You look stressed.”

“I want to go downstairs.” said Khadgar, insatiable in his thirst for knowledge. Gul’dan shook his head at once.

“It is dangerous. The orcs will eat you alive.”  
“But why? I look like one of them.”

“You do not walk nor talk like us, and your name is silly. Abraxxas will have spread word of you around.” Not many were seen by Gul’dan’s side in the meeting room with no-one else around. Khadgar groaned.

“Then teach me!”

Gul’dan leaned forwards, beckoning Khadgar closer.

“Do you… wish to _mingle_ with my people?”

“I don’t see why not.” Khadgar’s thoughts towards the orcs had changed rapidly in Gul’dan’s presence. Most of the ones on this floor were of high rank and skill, judging the weak-looking warlock who walked strangely with harsh eyes. He wanted to see what the soldiers were like, how they acted in private and what life was like for the Citadel’s first inner defenders. The ground floor was where orcs went to die. Khadgar wondered about morale down there.

Gul’dan sighed. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you… but I cannot keep you up here forever. I will have to prepare you, though.”

“Good.” Khadgar leaned his hands on Gul’dan’s knees and touched their foreheads together. “Where do we start?”

“With that.” Gul’dan pointed to some felblight in a cauldron across the room, boiling in the lit fireplace. “You will have to accept the Fel if you want to go downstairs. The warlocks there will sense your lack of familiar magic and gut you otherwise. Unless you would like me as an escort…?”

“No, no. I wouldn’t bother you.” Khadgar drew back and heard a soft noise of disappointment from Gul’dan. He then went over to peer into the bubbling cauldron.

“Take a cup.” Gul’dan called. “Unless you want to lose a hand.”

Khadgar could feel the chaotic energy tugging at him to stick his entire face into the cauldron and drink. The food he’d been eating here along with exposure to high quantities of dark energy had corrupted him just as much as Gul’dan’s passionate kisses. He had not been resisting, and indulging felt too good to even reconsider. Atop the fireplace he found several cups and chose one that had no cracks in it. Aware that Gul’dan was watching, he carefully dipped the top of the cup into the cauldron and let the felblight fill it. Only a quarter cup he dared take – having his hand so close to the boiling goop made it feel like his skin was burning, the acidic smoke making his eyes water. He brought the cup to Gul’dan, awaiting further instruction. The warlock smiled.

“It’s not for me, Khadgar. Drink.” Then as an afterthought he added quickly, “It will hurt.”

Khadgar needed no permission and drank, immediately gasping as the insides of his throat were peeled raw. He could feel the felblight going down into his stomach and once there, it corrupted whatever else was inside. He slumped, face landing between Gul’dan’s knees and pushing into the seat of the throne. Tight breaths became an uncontrollable coughing fit and Gul’dan put his hand on Khadgar’s head, stroking his hair.

“Breathe.” he commanded. “You are strong.” He spoke the words he ached to hear himself. Not that he would believe them.

Khadgar forced himself to gulp in a breath, shakily exhale and then repeat the process. He groaned, closing his eyes. _‘Is it over?’_

Gul’dan patted Khadgar’s turned cheek then and felt a sense of pride within. “You’ve done well. Now, feel your magic grow stronger.” As he spoke, Khadgar knew exactly what he was talking about. Despite his illusionary orcish body, he had a renewed sense of control over his limbs and the energies that flowed through them. The collar around his neck radiated a pleasant warmth in accordance to Khadgar’s balancing magical energies, less pure arcane and more half-and-half. He looked up at Gul’dan, who was beaming brightly at him.

“I knew you could do it.” Gul’dan helped Khadgar into a standing position, then rose from his throne. “Now… I will teach you. Will you open your mind to true power?”

“I will.” Khadgar nodded, feeling that this was _what he **wanted**._ His eyes glowed green as did his fingertips, magic just waiting to be unleashed. Gul’dan went upstairs, picked out an ancient grimoire and took Khadgar to the training balcony. A few warlocks practised up here, needing no connection to the earth or elements to hone their skills. They also did not need to jump around or otherwise move quickly, so they practised while remaining safe and stationary. Upon Gul’dan’s approach they all bowed and shifted off to one side, watching him with heads lowered. Some even cowered, clearly shaking. Khadgar followed a second later through the black, shadowy curtains that masked the doorway. This balcony was large enough for thirty warlocks to breakdance with space enough for many summoning circles and totems. Beneath, warriors of all sorts trained and some even fought each other to the death. The warlocks weren’t bothered by the berserker screams and roaring contests going on down there, but they _were_ a little suspicious about Khadgar.

“Master, who’s this?” asked one of the more experienced warlocks, a bluish-green orc named Zerthul. Gul’dan whirled around and blasted him in the face with a weak bolt of energy, face twisted in sudden rage.

“Did I ask you to speak?”

Zerthul quickly shook his head and shrank into the shadowy gathering on the other side of the balcony. Now he had a stinging headache and couldn’t concentrate. One of his subordinates, Koltharr, tugged on his sleeve.

“That’s the one Lord Jaxxen was talking about…” News had passed from Abraxxas to his felguards and whispers had gone past the ears of the shrewd warlocks. Zerthul scrunched up his face.

“Gad’kar? I can’t believe anyone would name their child that…”

Khadgar glanced back at them for a second before Gul’dan grabbed him by the chin. The warlocks saw their faces come close, heard Gul’dan murmur instead of snarl.

“ _Pay attention.”_

Khadgar flushed slightly and looked at Gul’dan. “Yes, uh, Master.”

Now it was Gul’dan’s turn to blush and he coughed into his hand, gesturing to the empty space before himself and his student. A circle appeared there with intricate runes rotating around the perimeter. Then, a circle formed around that, locking the runes into a ring. Everything was bright green and Gul’dan seemed to have only used his mind to make it happen. He removed the grimoire from within his robes and dusted it off, speaking a few words to open it. The front cover was written in demonic, and said _How to Harness the Power Within_.

“Do you see here,” said Gul’dan, pointing to a circle on the page he had flipped to, “The basic target sigil?”

Khadgar looked from the book to the sigil Gul’dan had made and nodded.

“You can read the finer details later, but for now I will show you how to do it.” Gul’dan had no qualms about leaving the Legion’s own handbook of destruction in Khadgar’s hands “Focus on that stick with the skull on top. Drop your focus onto it,” He lowered his hands in a quick setting-down motion. “You may gesture if it helps.”

Khadgar, knowing how to cast magic and being well-versed in the basics, knew how to place sigils. But he wasn’t used to targeting enemies with them _before_ attacking. Usually, he would summon lightning or freeze the ground and his sigils appeared where he directed them. At first, Khadgar tried to use just his mind and a green circle flickered around the base of the pole. He frowned, and looked at the grimoire Gul’dan had floating beside him. The book assumed complete corruption and an innate knowledge of the Fel, which Khadgar did not possess yet. Gul’dan held Khadgar’s left hand and splayed the fingers, before making a gesture towards the ground. He slapped a sigil down onto the floor and Khadgar made the exact same motion. This time he got the triangles and swirls inside the circle to show up, as he’d been concentrating on what they looked like in the book. Convinced he could do this, Khadgar tried again, pouring a great deal of energy into locking his unmoving target in place. Ice crackled around the base of the stick but it soon turned into green crystal, tainted by the fel. The warlocks whispered amongst themselves, having seen the unfamiliar arcane.

“Gad’kar.” Gul’dan set a hand on Khadgar’s shoulder. “You want to notice your target, not freeze it. The writing there,” he pointed to the runes around his own circle “says in Demonic, ** _e zyy uai, bay ab swy dyreaf.”_**

Khadgar stared. What foul, dark words could be wrested from an orc’s throat? And he thought their normal language was hard on the ears… Then he whispered. “I don’t understand it.”

Gul’dan wasn’t surprised. “It means _I see you, Foe of the Legion_. When you notice the enemy and place this sigil, it becomes a distinct, separate part of your mind. Any attacks can be directed to it with an afterthought and you will know what you are doing, who you are attacking, and how close their spirits are to leaving their bodies.” He demonstrated with three sigils on other targets across the balcony. “In combat against few of mixed abilities, you can use different attacks on each of them, provided you target them all.” Then he discarded the circles. “When facing an army, you will want to try something more… general.”

“Can you demonstrate?” asked Khadgar, tracing his fingers over the sigil in the book. Gul’dan grinned.

“Do you have an army?”

As if called into being, one materialized. Right before the gates of Hellfire Citadel (which was opposite the balcony and three floors down…) Durotan, Saurfang and Warmaster Zog had come. And there were _forty_ of Azeroth’s best warriors with them. The entire Citadel heard the sound of a horn being blown and chaos erupted, the training warriors erupting with bloodlust, running screaming and howling towards the gates. The surrounding warcamps shifted and all the engineers, hulking manual labourers and aggressive overseers poured towards the Citadel Courtyard like ants. The gates had been breached but the intruders had barely taken a step into the artillery-filled courtyard when a swarm of orcs rushed towards them. Crying out, the mages of the group worked to shut the doors and three succeeded, trapping the raid inside the courtyard.

Khadgar’s eyes widened at the sounds assaulting his ears. “That’s…”

Gul’dan pressed a finger to his lips. “You will get your demonstration.” he smiled, a cruel, twisted expression upon his formerly calm face. He handed the grimoire to Khadgar and told him to return it to the bookshelf.

“You will find me atop Destructor’s rise.”

 

~

 

(At this point, go and do the Hellfire Citadel until you get to Mannoroth)

 

~

 

Khadgar stumbled into the center of Destructor’s rise, having been teleported by one of his fellow warlocks. The sound of fighting came from below and demonic cursing could be heard loud and clear. Up here lay a massive pile of bones in the center of the floor, which was a huge metal disc surrounded by three spires and open sky. A red, green and purple crystal sat in each spire. Out from behind one came Gul’dan, floating in a green ball. He was dressed in his fancy armour and robes with his staff in his right hand.

“There you are, my little mage.” Gul’dan smirked and touched down before Khadgar, leaning forwards to nuzzle his nose. “Here is where I will demonstrate how to fight against an army.”

“I’ve done it before.” said Khadgar, not wanting to remember when he fought against the Horde, when he first learned to hate the orcs. “What on Draenor is _that?_ ”

“That is Mannoroth the Destructor. This is where he lives.” Gul’dan gestured around. As he did so, dread infernals appeared around the place. They were living chunks of stone drawn into a roughly humanoid shape by – you guessed it – fel energy. Khadgar looked at them, but they seemed nothing more than mindless constructs waiting for things to kill. The Legion’s version of elementals. _‘How fascinating!’_ He started to think of questions but his mind froze when he heard a shout behind him.

“MASTER!” Flying over the edge of the rise, Abraxxas waved a corpse of a demon half his size around. “They’re coming!”

“Get over here and fight!” Gul’dan roared, and Khadgar covered his ears. “Stay in here.” said Gul’dan, trapping Khadgar in a safe green bubble. It rose to one of the spires, the one with the purple crystal in it. “This is not your fight.”

Abraxxas landed before Gul’dan and bowed, watching his Master rise in a ball to come up to his eye level.

“Rain hellfire upon them.” said Gul’dan.

“As usual.”

When the adventurers came, the three leading orcs stepped forth and looked up at Abraxxas. The dreadlord immediately summoned a meteor out of the Twisting Nether and then a few hundred more as the raid scattered, throwing spells and hacking at his ankles. He began to cackle as the dread infernals blasted fire everywhere, trampling those who could not run fast enough too. Durotan glanced around, parrying the hard hand of an infernal trying to crush him. Gul’dan was floating beside an orc in a bubble, watching the fight. He pointed at the warlock with his axe as someone cut down the infernal before him.

“GUL’DAN!!”

Gul’dan raised his hands like “What, I can’t hear you” and grinned. He couldn’t wait to see the outcome of all this.

Abraxxas suddenly shrieked and pounded his fist into the ground, sending people flying. Someone had cut off the tip of his tail and _damn,_ it hurt. He whirled around but all he could see were more of the raid members and Saurfang looking not the least bit guilty, brandishing his sword. Burning, acidic blood spilled from his wound and was thrown about as his tail lashed from side to side. Forming a sword out of the boiling fel energy in the air, he challenged everyone and everything with a mighty roar. Someone dropped dead and a few others ran around, terrified. Warmaster Zog thought it a good idea to scale Abraxxas and try to cut his head off, but got no further than the dreadlord’s thigh before he was swept aside and thrown off Destructor’s rise. Gul’dan decided to add a bit more flavour to the fight and smashed the purple crystal with a blast of energy. Then, he chanted.

“The legion wills it, it will be done. Return, Mannoroth. Your Master calls you to this world once more!”

Abraxxas tripped as the skeleton of Mannoroth got up and brandished a two-ended spear.

“Fucking watch where you’re rezzing!” Abraxxas yelled, then twisted his face aside to avoid a massive ice shard that flew past. Mannoroth gave him a simpering look, despite being a skeleton with no facial muscles.

“My power returns. I am unleashed!” The first thing Mannoroth did after bellowing in rage was to open a demon hole. No, not _that kind_. One from the sky, calling in heaps and heaps of reinforcements. Everyone’s damage remained focussed on Abraxxas who was hoping the Destructor would help tank this. Mannoroth swung his weapon about and defiled the floor, covering the whole rise in a sticky, flaming mass of fel. Neither of them could pick out the healers from the damaging casters and embraced the chaos of battle, chasing whoever hit them the hardest. Durotan had never seen anything like this in his life and Saurfang looked exhausted, his mind crippled from a devious demon’s attack. As the demons flew from the hole and caused immense visual clutter, the whole raid heard Mannoroth cry out and then another crystal shattered. Gul’dan called to the now flesh-covered Destructor as if to comfort and encourage him.

“Fear not, Mannoroth. The Fel gift empowers you! Make them suffer!”

Mannoroth’s massive body thundered forth to take out the orc leaders, but they saw his swipes coming and dodged his weapon. Their feet were burning and the air was too thick to breathe properly in, and only through the cleansing of the raid’s priests could they survive. Gul’dan turned to Khadgar who was glued to the scene below.

“Hardy fighters, aren’t they?”

Khadgar opened his mouth, and then closed it. He did not know what to say.

“Watch this.” Gul’dan broke the final crystal just as Abraxxas fell to his knees, glowing blood pouring from his body out over the edges of the rise. The entire raid jumped on him and Mannoroth could not do much as they hacked the dreadlord to pieces. Gul’dan watched the crystal’s energy seep into Mannoroth.

“Let the power flow through you. You are the destructor, the flayer of flesh!”

Abraxxas gave Gul’dan a pitiful look, absolute woe and what looked like betrayal showing in his sunken, dark eyes. Then three swords stabbed into his neck and his eyes rolled back into his head.

“The… Legion…. will conquer.. all….”

Mannoroth burst forth with renewed rage and power.

“I…AM… UNSTOPPABLE…!” A whirlwind of wanton chaos, Mannoroth decided to melee everyone while the meteors were falling, exploding, and taking quite a few demons with them. Yet more reinforcements fell out of the hole and the raid was out of range to try and close it. Gul’dan moved his bubble to have a better angle and the moment he did, a paladin threw its hammer at him. Gul’dan laughed.

“NICE TRY!”

Khadgar could see the warlock salivating with bloodlust, reveling in the madness. Here were brave fighters of a world Khadgar loved, and yet he felt detached from them even as they wailed and sobbed and fell broken under Mannoroth’s assault. The raid was down to twenty people and most of them were jumping onto Mannoroth, trying to prevent him from killing the casters. Mannoroth didn’t give two shits, his skin thick and his blood able to corrode every sword, axe and spear stuck into him. It did hurt a little though and he grew frenzied, swiping at himself to try and get the warriors off. A blast of cold smacked into the back of his head, followed by a swarm of BEES and then a mage’s fire. With one hand he scraped away those he could reach and threw them up into the demon hole, where they were torn apart by beating wings and scrabbling claws. Warmaster Zog was overtaken with despair at the sight of this and with half his skin peeling off, turned to Durotan.

“Chieftain… I can’t…”

“YOU MUST!” Durotan roared, shaking him by the shoulder with one hand. Zog’s pauldron fell off and with it, his entire arm.

“I…” The warmaster pushed Durotan away and accepted the fel fireball that came for him. Durotan gave a wordless cry and turned to Mannoroth with pure hatred in his eyes. Now, he let his bloodlust consume him. It was natural and not the fel-tainted kind Gul’dan’s people experienced, but powerful nonetheless. Gul’dan was keeping track of Mannoroth’s strength and saw the Destructor begin to waver, his hindquarters looking increasingly uncomfortable. Then he realized. They were stabbing him in the _ass_.

“Oh, FEL NO.” Gul’dan raised his staff to attack, then paused. He did not want to hurt Mannoroth further, even if there were enemies inside his body. At a loss, he turned to Khadgar who looked as if he was going to be sick.

“Khadgar!” Gul’dan shouted. “What the--?”

Khadgar had wrapped his fingers around his own neck and was tugging at his collar. The unleashed energy of all the crystals combined had awakened _something_ that sent every nerve of his body quivering. Magic was magic after all, and the clashing of various schools here was ripping his self-control asunder. Gul’dan could see Khadgar’s face changing colour and dismissed his illusions, only to see the human’s skin a pale, greyish shade. Black liquid dripped from the corner of Khadgar’s mouth and prominent green veins were creeping up the sides of his neck. He raced over to join his bubble with Khadgar’s and tore his hands away. Khadgar’s eyes rolled and his mouth hung open as he looked at Gul’dan, unfocussed, pleading.

Gul’dan opened the collar.

The raid looked up to see a blinding burst of green light and then heard the smack of two figures hitting the ground. Mannoroth turned, threw a casual heal to Gul’dan and kept fighting. Gul’dan gasped as Khadgar began to change. The mage convulsed, hoarse screams tearing his throat and lungs burning with the thick fel air. His skin dried and stuck to his growing muscles, compressing as his insides forcibly expanded. Every part of him glowed, hair becoming raw red, orange and green flames. His fingers cracked backwards, curling until they accepted their new bones. They snapped into position, ending in long black claws. And then there was the _power_. Twice his usual size, Khadgar felt a sense of _too much_ , like he’d eaten enough to kill himself and yet continued afterwards. He took in a deep breath and howled, breaking the clouds above and shattering every meteor. Demons exploded as energy and entrails, Mannoroth cringed as his health grew critically low, and Gul’dan picked his jaw up off the floor.

Several members of the raid shit themselves and disconnected while only eight people remained (alive). All of them, riding on Mannoroth’s head and scrambling around, stabbed down into the Destructor’s skull and watched Khadgar throw his head back, opening his arms to clutch at the magical energies in the air.

“He’S DoING SoMEthING!!!!” cried Saurfang, a second before he evaporated into green powder and everything on the rise was obliterated. Except for Khadgar and Gul’dan.

Heaving for breath, Khadgar doubled over. The demon hole was gone, the fires had died, and nothing remained of the raid. Only the blood of Abraxxas and Mannoroth coated the top of Destructor’s Rise, still dripping down the sides to the ramparts and training grounds far below.

Gul’dan shakily crawled towards Khadgar, legitimately afraid. The power he sensed coming from his not-so-little mage was enormous and beautiful. He reached out, touching Khadgar’s head. His skull had cracked in two places about two inches up from his temples, and black nubs were pushing their way out. Khadgar was groaning in pain, holding his chest with one hand, head with the other.

“Guuuuuuul’daaaaaaaaaan…” His voice had dropped an octave, matching the pitch of any respectable dreadlord. Yet he sounded… hurt, and very, very frightened. “G…gguuuhhh…” He spat out the last of blackened blood, his next retch ending in a torrent of green. Gul’dan winced. He hated to imagine what Khagar was feeling and stopped himself from entering a shocked trance. Using his own power, he massaged Khadgar’s chest with the intent to draw his energies together, into his soul. With the warlock’s aid, the arcane within Khadgar stopped fighting. The small amount of fel he had pushed into his collar had corrupted his _entire_ reserve of hidden arcane might, and now had ended in his complete transformation. His skin was almost translucent, an alabaster white with dark veins crawling out of his eyelids. His eyes themselves were bright green, but the longer he took to gather himself, they changed to a soft turquoise. His arms had morphed into thick, sculpted pillars of muscle and his chest had changed to accommodate this. His whole body in fact looked like it was shrink-wrapped in rice paper, blood green and black depending on where it flowed and clothes lost forever. Vulnerable in his new body, Khadgar could hardly think straight. But he knew Gul’dan was beside him, touching him, helping him. And he knew _love_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't usually finish my fics but when I do, I end them with shit like this :D
> 
> (I think I might privately write the sequel to this, an AU of what's happening during WoW: Legion. How will Azeroth manage without Khadgar on its side? HMHM.)
> 
> SEQUEL UP: http://archiveofourown.org/works/8124397


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